


Only for One Night

by totheendoftheworldortime79



Series: Only for One Night [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-21 00:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 153,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1531337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totheendoftheworldortime79/pseuds/totheendoftheworldortime79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pirate!Killian/Princess!Emma AU. Captain Hook is brought before Snow and Charming and sentenced to death. Finding herself being married off to the son of the Dark One, Emma takes matters into her own hands...including a certain pirate in her scheme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another Tumblr prompt that got away from me, blooming into a full fledged story. I hope you like it!

Emma hated these things. She hated having to sit beside her parents as they dispensed justice in their realm. She knew it was important, but she'd seen it so many times that it had become rote, just another task for her to suffer through. Still, she was the Crown's only heir and she had a duty, even if it was a duty she despised and hadn't asked for.

“One day you will be Queen,” her mother reminded her, so many times that Emma could hear her voice in her head. “You'll need to understand these things when the time comes.”

A future queen she may be, but it wasn't the life Emma wanted for herself. She wanted to be _free_ , to have the chance to make her own mistakes, live her own life as she saw fit. Ruling held no charm for her.

But she loved her parents, so here she was as the seemingly never ending parade of lawbreakers were brought before their majesties to pass sentence. She'd long since tuned out her father's voice, preferring to think about how she would sneak out later for a long ride in the forest. Gods knew she needed it.

There was a collective murmur from the assembled crowd as the great hall's massive doors opened. Chains clanked as the prisoner was brought forward, two strong knights on either side. Finally pulled from her thoughts, Emma's eyes widened as they took in the sight before her. She leaned over to her mother. “Is that who I think it is?”

Snow White scowled. “Yes, Emma. It is.”

“But--”

Her mother shook her head, the words implicit.  _Not now._

Emma felt disappointment well in her, wanting to argue, but knew it would do no good. Instead, she turned her head back to the prisoner. He was tall, dressed in black and leather from head to toe. All except the vest. His vest was deep red, like blood. The entire ensemble did much to enhance the already handsome face—far more handsome than she had been led to believe—with his thick dark hair, scruff and piercing blue eyes. The sunlight in the hall glinted off the silver hook that sat where his left hand should have been.

There was no doubt that this was the infamous Captain Hook, most feared pirate in all the realms.

And somehow her family had managed to capture him.

Emma stared at him as he crossed the hall, apparently unperturbed about the chains that bound his wrists and ankles. Indeed, he almost looked  _bored_ , as if this were some picnic and not an encounter that would decide his earthly fate. Emma had no doubt as to what that fate would be. It struck her what a  _waste_ it would be to have a specimen such as he wiped from the world.

_Wait...what?_ Emma blinked, horrified by her errant thought. Objectively, yes, the pirate captain was  _gorgeous_ , anyone could see that. But he was a  _pirate_ , a criminal. Who'd left a trail of death and destruction behind him. She couldn't be  _attracted_ to such a person. She just...couldn't.

And yet her eyes never left him. She drank him in greedily as he approached the dais, taking in the arrogant stride and the way his long leather coat swished around his legs. Worse was the exposed hair on his chest from where his shirt lay open. Emma wondered just how much hair there was was, if it would be soft to the touch.

Emma's grip on the arm of her throne tightened, her face flaming with embarrassment. She shouldn't be having these thoughts. At all. Yes, she was nineteen, but she was also still a maiden. She couldn't be having a fantasy about a  _pirate_ . What would her parents say? She thought momentarily of bolting, of just running to her room and never coming out again, but knew she couldn't embarrass her parents like that. So she took deep breaths, trying to get her thoughts back under control. And to look at  _anything_ but the pirate.

“Killian Jones, known to some as Captain Hook,” her father, David, announced to the assembled throng. “For crimes against the realm, including flagrant piracy--”

“Is there any other kind, your highness?” the pirate cut in.

Emma blinked, stunned. First, for the man audacity to interrupt her father—no one did that, except her mother. Second, for that  _voice_ . It felt like silk to her ears, low and gravelly, with a lilting accent that make her head swim. She hoped no one noticed her momentary loss of composure as she sucked in a breath trying to steady her suddenly racing heart. What on earth was he doing to her?

David, meanwhile, scowled in disgust. “Are you denying the charge?”

The captain glanced around the room, completely unconcerned, the swagger evident in the way he carried himself. “Now why would I do that?” he said, leering up at the dais. “Aye, I'm a pirate. Proud of it in fact. Scourge of the Seas, they call me.”

“So you admit your guilt?” The pirate shrugged. “And what of the other charges?”

“I've committed many sins, but I've never killed a man who couldn't defend himself. And I've never forced a lass into my bed. Call it a pirate's code, if you like.”

Emma, inexplicably, felt something very like jealousy trickle down her spine at that last bit. She knew without a doubt it was true. She'd always had an instinct for the truth; it occasionally came in handy in these long tedious sessions. But she knew that  _this_ man, whatever his other faults, had no reason or desire to force himself on anyone. Or take a life without the ability for defense. It was so at odds with that she had been taught about pirates...Emma wondered what had made him this way. But she would probably never know.

“Pirate's code or not, you _are_ guilty of piracy, theft and kidnapping, by your own admission,” Snow White interjected. “We therefore have no choice but to sentence you to death.”

It was as Emma had expected. There was no other choice. The man's sins were too numerous to allow him to live. But she couldn't help the way her stomach lurched as her mother announced the sentence. She continued to stare, feeling rooted to the spot. Then to her surprise, the pirate's blue eyes locked with hers across the space. They seemed to bore into her, as if reading every thought she had  _ever_ had.  _Oh gods_ , Emma thought as her face heated up, sure that he could read her mind, would know the highly inappropriate thoughts she'd had about him.

If he had read her mind, he gave no sign, merely widened his eyes as if he were seeing the sun for the first time. No one had ever looked at Emma like that and she had no idea what to do. Before she could open her mouth, the guards were dragging the pirate away, chains clanking. He stole one last glance at her over his shoulder, then he was gone.

Emma didn't even wait for her father's dismissal; she was up and gone herself. She needed to escape, needed  _air_ . The whole inexplicable encounter with the pirate had discombobulated her. He hadn't even spoken to her. But those  _eyes..._ Vaguely, she heard her mother call out for her, but Emma ignored it. Instead, she went to her room, changed into her riding clothes, and headed down to the stables, where Tom the groom had her favorite horse waiting for her. She hoped a long ride would clear her head.

It worked, to a point. When Emma returned, she felt calmer, more at peace. She even flirted with Tom, studiously ignoring the nagging thought that she wanted to be flirting with someone  _else_ . Someone who was dark where Tom was fair, someone who had bright sapphires for eyes instead of chestnuts.

“Where have you been, my lady?” her maid Greta asked when Emma returned to her room. “The Queen is looking for you.”

“I went for a ride,” Emma said, frowning. “Surely, that's not a crime now.” Since Emma had finished her studies, her mother had largely left Emma to her own devices, letting her come and go as she pleased. It would be her only freedom until she inevitably married and started her own family, something Emma wasn't especially keen on yet.

“She looked anxious,” Greta confided, as she helped Emma back into her gown. “And I've heard rumbling among the servants. Preparations, it looked like.”

“Preparations for what?”

“I don't know, my lady. I tried asking Mother—she's one of the Queen's seamstresses—but she won't tell me.”

“I guess I better go see what the fuss is about then.”

Emma headed down to her mother's solar, an strange sense of foreboding settling her stomach. It wasn't like her mother to keep secrets. In fact, Snow White abhorred secrets and wasn't very good at keeping them. It was what had sent her on the run as a bandit in the first place, before she met David and defeated her stepmother to regain her crown. Emma had heard the story a thousand times; sometimes she had trouble picturing her petite kindly mother as an arrow wielding bandit, but she knew it was true.

“Emma, there you are,” Snow White said when Emma entered the room. “Didn't you hear me calling you earlier?”

“No, I must have missed it. I'm sorry,” Emma replied, only somewhat apologetic. “Greta said you were looking for me?”

Snow bit her lip; Emma could sense the other woman's nervousness. “Sit. Your father thought it best if I broke the news to you in private.”

Emma sat on the settee and looked at her mother curiously. “What news?”

“We've...well, there no good way to say it, I suppose. We've found a husband for you.”

Emma blinked, her mouth falling open. “You...what?”

“A husband,” Snow repeated with false cheeriness. “Emma, honey, you're getting married!”

She was still too stunned to form coherent thoughts. “Why?”

Snow twisted a kerchief in her hands. “You're my heir, Emma. You have to get married sometime.”

“I know that,” Emma snapped. “But why _now_? And why are you choosing for me? Don't I get to fall in love first?”

“Emma, your father and I...it's a very unusual case.”

“Marrying for love is _unusual_?!”

“For people like us...yes. My father had an arranged marriage. My parents were perfectly happy.”

“Yeah, until your mother was murdered and Grandpa married Regina! Then she killed him and tried to kill you! I'm sorry if I'm not going to just take your word for it.” Emma stood up, pacing back and forth angrily. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Snow White and Prince Charming, the epitome of True Love, were _arranging_ a marriage for their only daughter?

“Emma, please. You don't understand.”

“What don't I understand? Please, Mother, explain it to me.”

“I told your father this would happen.”

“What would happen? I'm trying to understand, but you're not making any sense.”

Snow White sighed heavily, defeated. “It's Rumplestiltskin, Emma.”

A shiver ran down her spine. “You want me to marry the  _Dark One?!”_

“No, no, Emma. Of course not. It's his son, Baelfire. You remember him, right?”

Emma thought; she had a vague recollection of a dark haired boy when she was younger. She also remembered not liking him very much. “Why him?”

“The Dark One wants to unite the kingdoms, Emma. He threatened your father, the whole kingdom. We don't have magic, Emma. Not like he has. We didn't have a choice. We had to keep you safe.”

“Selling me to his son is keeping me safe?”

Snow was near tears. “I'm sorry, Emma. I never wanted this for you. I swear. But we didn't have a choice.”

Emma looked down at her mother, desperately trying to hold back her distress. She couldn't believe this was happening. Her mother—her beautiful, loving mother—was selling her to the scourge of the Enchanted Forest. She thought about the pirate, not long for the gallows. And wished she was joining him.

* * *

Emma stared into the mirror, rearranging her curls for the twentieth time. She had to be  _mad_ . This was by far the stupidest, most reckless thing she had ever done. But it was the only way she could think of to rail against the unjustness of her fate, aside from running away. And Emma wouldn't run. She wasn't a coward. But if the Dark One wanted her for something, then she would do all in her power to make sure he got damaged goods. And let him  _choke_ on them.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, Emma wiped it away angrily. She was through crying. It was time she  _do_ something. She took one last spin around her room, lighting candles until a soft glow filled the room. Not exactly romantic, but then this wasn't about romance. This was about making sure that the son of Dark One didn't get to be the first one to touch her, defiling the one thing that made her a precious commodity. Who better for that than a pirate?

There was a soft knock on the oak door; Emma ran to pull it open, just enough for her visitor to slip through. She'd long since made sure the guards who typically lurked in the hall were asleep via a tankard of dosed mead. She didn't want to be interrupted or found out. Greta stood on the other side, looking white as a sheet, but Emma nodded to her, letting her know it was okay. The girl curtsied and hurried off.

Her hand shaking, Emma closed the door. It was time to face her visitor.

The pirate rounded on her the moment the door closed. “You.”

Emma swallowed, her nerves jangling under her skin. “Do you know why I've asked you here, pirate?” To her surprise, her voice sounded much steadier than she felt.

“Can't rightly say that I do. But I must admit, princess,” the pirate replied, advancing toward her, “that I am intrigued. What use could a lowly pirate be to a princess?”

The light from the candles played over the angles of his face, making him even more gorgeous if that were possible. Emma swallowed again, trying to keep her composure. She could do this. “I want you to ...bed me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The pirate blinked, momentarily stunned into silence. Emma's face felt hot, her whole body felt hot, still not quite believing she had spoken the words out loud. Suddenly, this seemed like a much worse plan than it had seemed in her head.

“Why?”

Of all the things she had expected him to say...none of them were that. “Do I need a reason?”

Hook stepped back, running his hand through his hair. “If I'm going to risk my neck, princess...aye, I need a reason.”

“Risk your neck? You're already condemned. I was there.”

Hook laughed, rich and dark, full of promise. “You don't really think that dungeon of yours could hold the likes of me, do you?”

“Then why are you still here? If you could have broken out any time, why stay? You're scheduled to die tomorrow.” It was why she'd chosen _this_ night for her plan.

Hook advanced toward her, a smirk on his lips. “Well, I was hoping to get a glimpse of the beautiful princess I saw at my trial, but she invited me to her chamber instead. I think I like this better.”

“You wanted to see _me?_ ”

To her surprise, Hook's face softened. “Aye, lass. Didn't you know condemned men crave beauty in their final hours? Something to take with them before they face the hangman. And you, love, are the most beautiful thing I've seen in a very long time.”

He was barely close enough to touch, but Emma could feel the stirring in her gut. That attraction she'd felt at the trial was back, simmering under the surface, powered by that honeyed voice of his. It made her want him for  _him_ , rather than just as a tool for her revenge.

“I'm being married off to the son of the Dark One,” she explained quietly. “And I...I don't want to. I don't want him to...”

Hook pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She didn't realize he'd gotten so close to her. “You don't wish him to be the first.”

Emma bit her lip. “No.”

“But you'd rather have a pirate?”

Emma looked up into those blue eyes, softly lit by the candles. “I heard what you said. At the trial. About never...I want this to be  _my_ choice. But I'll understand if you don't...want me.”

“Lass, believe me, this has nothing to do with not wanting you. I think I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“You did?”

“Believe it or not, love, but you happen to be a very beautiful woman. A man would have to be _dead_ not to want you.”

“Here, I thought pirates just _took_ what they wanted.”

“A pirate I may be, but I am also a gentleman, love. Which I am...trying very hard to be right now.”

Emma could see the tension in his stance; being this close to her was affecting him as well as her. “What if I said I didn't want you to? What if I told you I wanted the pirate and not the gentleman?”

“Then I would want you to be very, very sure, princess.”

“It's Emma,” she said, closing the distance between them. She wanted this—wanted _him—_ to hell with the consequences. “And yes, I'm very sure.”

She let out a soft yelp when he suddenly jerked her into his arms, his mouth hot on hers. Emma's hands flew to his biceps trying to hold herself up under the onslaught of his lips. It wasn't that she hadn't been kissed before, but she had never been kissed like this. He nipped at her lips, demanding entrance; Emma opened for him on instinct, momentarily shocked when he shoved his tongue into her mouth. But she caught on quickly, giving back in equal measure. Hook growled into her mouth, hauling her against him, backing them up until her back was against the door. It was a good thing too, because her knees were shaking and her legs felt like jelly under her.

It was almost like being washed through a riptide; he was all consuming, towering over her, threatening to swallow her whole. His lips left hers, giving her a chance to  _breathe_ , before latching onto her pulse and sucking greedily, his hips rocking to her. She could  _feel_ him pressed against her thigh, thick and long and she wondered how on earth he would  _fit_ .

“ _Emma._ Gods, you taste divine, love.” He shoved her robe off her shoulder, his lips sliding over her collar, scruff scratching her skin, making her gasp in pleasure. She clutched at him, no longer able to really hold herself up.

He must have sensed it because the next thing Emma knew, Hook had picked her up and carried her toward her bed, laying her down with more gentleness than she would have expected. He started peeling away her remaining clothing, until she was completely naked under his hungry gaze. “You are a vision,” she heard him say, his hand gliding over her flushed skin.

Emma hardly had a moment to catch her breath when he was pushing her knees apart and lowering his head. A protest died on her lips when she felt his warm tongue press against her sodden flesh. “Oh,” she gasped, her hips rolling upwards instinctively. She had no idea what she was doing, merely heeding the demands of her body.

“That's it, love,” he coaxed, kissing the inside of her thigh. “Just like that. I'm gonna make you feel good before I take you. I promise.”

Emma gasped sharply as his mouth worked over her in earnest, her fingers tightening in the sheets. She had never felt anything like this; her own hesitant explorations of that part of her doing nothing to prepare her for  _this_ . It felt like she was on fire, tension coiling in her stomach tighter and tighter until she was sure she would burst. She gasped again as he slid a single finger inside her, hips bucking against him.

“Fuck, Emma. You're so tight. Gonna feel so good around me, love.” A second finger joined the first, moving quickly in and out of her and Emma cried out as a jolt shot through her. “Looks like I found my treasure,” Hook mumbled, his fingers brushing that spot again and again. “Let go for me, Emma. Just let go.” He lowered his head again, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers moved inside her, his rings teasing her flesh.

Then it felt like she was falling, her body suffused in bliss, pouring out of every nerve, unintelligible cries tumbling from her lips. Hook kept touching her until she stilled at last, her breathing coming in harsh pants, sweat covering her body as her heart raced. Whatever he had done to her, it felt  _incredible_ and she desperately wanted to feel it again.

When Emma opened her eyes, she saw Hook stripping off his clothes. Emma licked her lips as she watched him undress, her fingers itching to touch his skin, feel the hard muscles under her palms. He laid his hook aside before crawling onto the bed with her. She saw the most private part of him bobbing between his legs, even bigger than she had imagined. Emma swallowed, unable to tear her gaze away. He saw her eyes and smirked, wrapping his hand around it and stroking gently.

“I won't lie to you, lass. This might hurt. But I'll go slowly, yeah?”

She had heard about that. Several years ago, her mother had warned her about it. Still, she wasn't worried. Somehow, she knew that this man would take care of her. Emma reached out and brushed her fingers over him; he felt warm and silky belying the hardness. Hook let out a shuddering breath.

“Gods, lass. Are you sure you've never done this before?”

“I've always been a quick study,” she mumbled, wrapping her hand around it and stroking as she'd seen him do.

“Then I think I shall take great pleasure in teaching you.”

The way he said it, almost got her to believe that there would be more than just this one night. That they could have many nights like this together, but that was insane. However, she knew she would leave this room completely wrecked for him. That nothing or no one would ever be able to compare. It didn't make sense; she hardly knew him. But it  _felt_ like she did. There was just something about the way he touched her, the way he spoke to her, that she felt deep in her soul. But she was just being silly, letting the moment get away from her. For this one night though, she could afford a flight of fancy.

Hook groaned softly as she stroked him. “Lass, if you don't stop, we'll have to wait before I can take you properly.” He covered her hand with his. “Last chance to back out.”

Emma shook her head, maybe a little too quickly. She wanted this memory to take with her. The memory of someone else's hands on her, someone else claiming her as theirs before her freedom was stolen from her. “No, I want you,” she said firmly as she released him. Then her cheeks turned pink. “How do you...”

“Just lay back, lass. I'll do all the work.”

She did as he bid, resting her head on her pillow. Hook rose up and spread her legs again, kissing his way up her thighs. The ache between her legs started to build again as she whimpered softly. Hook kissed his way up her body, suckling her breasts until she was gasping. Emma was close to begging, needing some kind of relief, when she felt the tip of him nudging her entrance, making her breathing hitch.

“Just relax, love,” Hook whispered in her ear. His good hand slid between them and then she _felt_ him. Felt him begin to slip inside her, slowly, letting her adjust to the intrusion. It felt so much different from his fingers, thicker and fuller. Emma tried to steady her breathing, sensing the worst was to come. Instinctively, Emma spread her legs wider, trying to help him ease into her. She could feel the pressure building, could see the sweat break out on her lover's forehead as he tried to hold himself back.

“So tight,” he breathed. “Love, I need to...”

Emma nodded furiously, not trusting herself to speak. A sharp pain bloomed as he pushed deeper, then almost immediately started to fade until all she could feel was  _full_ . Hook brushed a kiss over her brow as he started to pull back a little before thrusting back in. He kept his thrusts short and measured until he was sure she could take it. Emma kissed him encouragingly, not wanting him to hold back. She wanted to feel everything.

“Please,” she begged. “More.”

Hook did as she asked, taking her with more force, deep strokes that made her toes curl in pleasure. After the initial discomfort, she felt nothing short of amazing as the now familiar tension built in her stomach. She held onto him, letting him do what he wanted as he murmured praise in her ear.

“Feels _so good_ , lass,” he mumbled, nipping at her earlobe. “Could fuck you for hours. Gods, I never want to stop. Want to keep you right here under me.”

Emma nodded in agreement, dragging his lips down to hers for a needy kiss. She couldn't think about any of that now, of how they were only going to get this one night together. All she wanted to think about was right now and how incredible he made her feel.

“Come for me, lass. Want to feel you squeeze me.” His good hand snaked between them as he braced himself on his stump, circling her bundle of nerves quickly. Emma felt her body jerk and tighten, until she was tumbling over the edge once more, his lips on hers to muffle her cries. She heard him grunt as he thrust twice more, spilling himself inside her.

Emma was too dazed to notice as he rolled off her, panting for breath. “S-s-sorry, lass. Got a bit carried away.”

It took her a moment to realize he'd spoken. “What?”

“I didn't mean to...you could wind up with child, lass.”

“Oh.” Emma was trying to see how that would be bad.

“Usually, I don't care. But you're a...well, a princess. You deserve better.”

“Never bedded a princess before?”

Hook shook his head. It was almost cute.

Emma rolled onto her side. “Hook...”

He put a finger to her lips. “After what we just did, you best call me by my name, love. Killian.”

Emma found herself smiling. “Killian. Listen, I don't care about that. The whole point of this was to ruin me for... _him_ .” She couldn't even say his name. “If I showed up at the Dark One's castle with a pirate's bastard...well, maybe then he'd send me home. I'd be  _free_ .”

“Or he'd kill you and the child. He's a nasty piece of work, Emma.”

“Better that than be forced to marry his son.”

“You don't mean that.”

“Don't I? I always thought I'd be like my parents, get married for _love_ , then have a family. I never thought they'd just...marry me off like I was sow at auction. But now they have and I...I don't know what to do.”

“If I could take you from this, I would, lass.”

Her heart lept. “You would?”

“Aye, no one deserves to have their right to choose taken away, not even a princess.”

“But you hardly know me.”

“I know enough. I felt like I _knew_ you, the moment I saw you.”

“I thought you were reading my mind.”

Killian pushed her hair back from her face. “Maybe I was. Or maybe we've met in another life.” He closed the gap and kissed her, his lips soft and gentle. She melted into him, pulling him closer, wanting to get lost in him until they had to part.

* * *

When Emma woke up the next morning, her body ached. All the memories from the night before came rushing back and she reached for Killian. The other side of the bed was empty. Her hand brushed over a piece of parchment, Killian's elegant handwriting covering the page.

_Meet me at the South gate. Dusk. ~Killian_

Emma clutched the paper to her chest. She couldn't run away with him, could she? Her parents. Her whole life was here. Then she remembered the marriage that lay ahead of her. Anything was better than that. Even life on a pirate ship.

Greta helped her pack a small rucksack of her things, promising to bring them to the gate at the appointed time. Emma tried to go about her day as if nothing had changed, but she wasn't sure she was successful. Her mother kept looking at her strangely. Emma was sure her cover was blown when the head jailor came to report that Killian was missing from the dungeon, but hardly anyone paid her any heed. The guards started searching the castle, but Emma knew they wouldn't find him. Her pirate was long gone. She was about to excuse herself to change when the trumpeters blew an unfamiliar fanfare. Emma ran to the window and saw Rumplestiltskin's carriage approaching.

She was trapped.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Gods, love, just like that.”

Killian's head sank into the pillow as his hips rocked gently into Emma's warm wet mouth. This was her first time doing this, and he didn't want to overwhelm her. But gods, he needed to  _move_ . His balls ached like he hadn't had sex in a year and Emma's sweet mouth was the greatest thing he'd ever felt.

He wove his fingers into her hair, guiding her movement, urging her to move a bit faster. She was so beautiful like this, perfect pink lips wrapped around his cock, her green eyes sparkling. She was his own personal goddess and he intended to spend the rest of his life worshipping her.

“That's it,” he praised, wanting to make sure she knew exactly how good she made him feel. “I always knew you'd be a natural at this, love.” Emma hummed around him, as she couldn't speak, and Killian groaned. “Fuck. Do that again, Emma. _Gods._ ”

She repeated the sound, her lips quirking around his cock, tongue swirling around it. Briefly, he wondered where she'd learned such a thing, but he was too far gone for words. In moments, his hips were bucking into her mouth as he emptied himself inside her.

Killian woke up sticky and drenched in sweat. Again. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, wincing as he rolled over. That was the tenth time he'd woken up like this. Or was it the twelfth? Killian had lost count—had even taken the drastic step of  _not_ sleeping—but nothing seemed to help. His mind simply could not let the vision of the gorgeous princess doing dirty amazing things to him go. It was slowly driving him mad.

He reached for the cloth he'd taken to leaving by his bed, and dousing it in the nearby basin. Carefully, he wrung it out and used it to clean himself up. What the hell was the matter with him? Why couldn't he seem to let her go? She had chosen not to meet him at the gate. He would have risked  _everything_ to free her from the bondage she found herself in, but she had chosen to spurn him. She was no longer his concern. And yet, every time Killian closed his eyes...there she was, all soft curves and sunny hair and eyes like emeralds.

In one night, that lass had gotten under his skin and he didn't like it. Not anymore.

_Stop being a fool, Jones. What would Liam think, losing your head over lass? A princess, no less._ Thinking of his brother hurt, but it also reminded him why he was there,  _why_ he was a pirate in the first place. A king—much like Emma's father—had taken his brother from him. It was his duty to make them all pay.

“How goes it, Mr. Smee?” Killian asked when he got out on deck. The sun was high, the crimson flag of the _Jolly Roger_ bright against the cloudless sky.

“Ship shape, Capt'n,” Smee replied jovially. “Do we have a heading today?”

“Aye, I think the crew could use a little rest and relaxation. How does an evening at the Star Fall sound?”

Smee looked like Killian had flashed a hundred gold coins under his nose. “The men would be most grateful for the indulgence, Captain.”

Killian didn't divulge the real reason why he was changing their heading. No one knew about his tryst with the princess, had no idea about the strain it was causing him. The Star Fall was a busy tavern in a no name village, one of his crew's favorite haunts. If he could find a...distraction, then it would certainly be there.

By sunset, the  _Jolly Roger_ was docked, and the unlucky crewmen designated to keep watch over her manned their posts. Killian led the rest into the Star Fall, where he ordered a round for all, mindful of the gold in his purse. He drank and caroused, just like he always did, eying the lasses hoping one of them would strike his fancy. He desperately needed to get the princess out of his system before he went completely mad.

“Would you and your men like another round?” a female voice asked.

Killian turned in his seat and looked up. A raven haired beauty stared back at him, tray on her hip, waiting for his answer expectantly.  _You, my dear, will do nicely_ . He gave the woman his brightest, most seductive grin. “Only if you agree to join me...”

“Diana.”

“Come, Diana, have a drink with me,” he invited, gesturing toward the seat across from him. “Surely, that old coot will let you have brief break with his favorite patron?” Old Ed ran the tavern; Killian had gotten him out of a sticky spot some years back. The old man was so grateful, he allowed Killian and his crew to drink for half price, as often as they wished.

Diana frowned, considering. “I don't know...I haven't been here that long...”

Than explained why he hadn't seen her before. Killian was certain he'd remember a lass as pretty as her. “Ask anyone, Old Ed and me go way back. It'll be fine, love.” He ignored the voice in his head telling that this wasn't what he wanted. No, he didn't  _want_ this, he  _needed_ it.

“One drink should be alright, I suppose.”

“That's the spirit!”

One drink soon turned into three and Killian guided Diana out the back door of the tavern. The dark alley was the perfect cover; he didn't want to waste time taking her back to his quarters. One quick fuck against the wall and he'd be  _free._

Diana fumbled for him in the dark, wrapping her arms clumsily around his neck. She was a little bit tipsy, but not unduly so. She started nuzzling his neck, presses kisses against his skin. Then he dragged her lips back to his, kissing her with abandon.

Killian tried. He really did. But everything felt  _wrong_ . Diana was soft where Emma was firm, forward where the princess was fresh faced and earnest. How could he feel like this after only one night with the princess? When Diana reached for the laces of his pants, he stopped her, placing his good hand over hers.

“I think it's time you went back to work, lass.”

Diana's brow creased in confusion; the rest of her expression was difficult to make out in the dark. “But I thought...”

“Well, looks like we both thought wrong,” Killian snapped, harsher than he intended. But he was frustrated and angry. Had that bloody princess bewitched him somehow? Why couldn't he get her out of his head? He didn't bother with the niceties, too upset with his traitorous body and mind to usher Diana back inside like a gentleman should. Instead, Killian stomped back to the _Jolly Roger_ , his murderous glare sending the crew scurrying.

When he got back to his quarters, he took out his maps. If meaningless sex couldn't help him regain his equilibrium, then perhaps a spot of violence could.

* * *

“There she is, mates!” Killian yelled to his assembled crew. “Our quarry! Looks like some fine plunder today!”

He lowered the spyglass amidst cheers. He collapsed it with his hook, then slid it into his pocket. Finally, after two days of searching, they had found a prize worth taking. Even better to Killian's thinking, the vessel in question carried the colors of the kingdom that he so desperately needed to get out of his head. He would relish burning it to the waterline and stealing all that was worth taking.

It took some time, but they managed to run the vessel down. Not for nothing was the  _Jolly Roger_ the fastest ship in all the realms. Given enough time, she could run  _anyone_ down. Whoever the captain of the enemy vessel was they were a good sailor; Killian almost felt sorry for them. But that didn't stop him from firing a warning shot as soon as the enemy was in range.

When the ship failed to surrender, Killian got frustrated. Usually when a skipper got sight of the crimson flag, they were all too ready to cooperate. Contrary to popular belief, most ships didn't resist all that much once they knew it was pirates. Far easier for a good merchant captain to surrender his cargo and go on his way. But whoever this was, they seemed on intent on resisting. Killian ordered his crew to start taking shots at the sails and rigging, intent on disabling the enemy vessel before trying to board.

At length, a shot from the port side smashed into one of the masts of the enemy ship, sending her crew skittering in all directions. Killian's crew, well trained from years of piracy, took the opportunity to throw out the grappling hooks as his first mate maneuvered the  _Jolly_ alongside. Those not pulling on the ropes fired on the crew of the enemy vessel to keep their heads down and away from the grappling hooks. In minutes, the two vessels were aligned, Killian leading the boarding party.

Unlike some vessels, this ship's crew knew how to fight. It took more time than usual for them to subdue the crew. Swords clashed and clanged as they went down one by one. Killian loved the rush that he got when he was fighting; it was almost as good as sex. Almost. He didn't have time to dwell on the nuances as he fought his way up to the helm, where it appeared the ship's captain waited.

Unable to resist a bit of theater, Killian lept onto the quarterdeck, brandishing his cutlass. Eying the captain and his small cadre of sailors around him, he laughed. “Now which of you fine fellows would like to grapple with the famous Captain Hook?”

“I would.”

Killian whirled around, and he could have sworn his heart stopped.

There, standing in front of him, was Emma.

She looked thinner than the last time he'd seen her, sleeping peacefully in her bed. Her yellow hair was pulled up under a hat; she wore a puffy white shirt, a blue vest complete with tan breeches and riding boots. Her face was drawn and pale; there were dirty smudges on her cheeks. But the green eyes were as vibrant as they ever were. And there was a sword in her hand. She was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

“No,” the ship's captain said. “Princess, you must flee. Go!”

Emma kept her eyes on Killian. “No, it's me he wants. I don't want your crew to suffer anymore on my account.”

“But Princess...”

Emma finally tore her eyes from Killian's; he felt the loss instantly. It was like the sun had gone out. “You've risked enough for me already. Someday I'll find a way to repay you. It's going to be alright, Captain. I promise.” She looked back at Killian, her eyes pleading now. And suddenly, he understood.

Emma had run away. She'd dressed like a man and stowed away on a ship rather than marry the imp's offspring. And she'd done it in the hope of finding  _him_ . She hadn't chosen the safety of home. She'd chosen  _him_ . Killian cleared his throat. He needed to talk to her.  _Now._

“Aye, a princess to ransom is _quite_ the haul,” Killian said, playing along, hoping to get her alone as soon as possible. “As I am a gentleman, I'll allow you collect whatever valuables you've brought with you. My crew will see to the rest.”

“Very well, pirate,” Emma said in her most imperious tone.

Killian laughed. “We just may have to teach you some manners, princess. Come.” He sheathed his sword and took hers. He'd give it back as soon as they were back on board the  _Jolly_ . Somehow he wasn't surprised that his princess was handy with a sword. Killian gave her a little nudge for show, urging her to lead him to her quarters.

As soon as they were away from prying eyes, Killian dropped her sword and hauled her into his arms. He knew they needed to talk, needed to find out exactly what had happened that night they'd missed each other, but right now, he needed her. Emma was of like mind, her fingers curling around the collar of his coat and dragging his lips down hers in a bruising kiss. And for the first time in weeks, Killian felt  _right_ .

“Emma,” he breathed, his lips moving over her jaw and down her neck. “Gods, love, is it really you?”

Emma groaned as he nipped at her pulse point. “I'm here. I'm so...sorry.”

Killian raised his head, shaking it. “Later, lass. Right now I just need to feel you.” He captured her lips again, so soft and pliant against his, opening for him eagerly. Killian managed to have the presence of mind to drag them toward a shadowy corner near the crew quarters; he knew they'd never make it back to her quarters. Their abrupt reunion had caught them both by surprise, and their bodies were merely reacting, having spent far too much time apart. Passion swelled up like an unstoppable wave and they were simply caught up in the undertow.

Killian pressed Emma against the wall, his hand sliding over her clothes, feeling her soft curves underneath. How could anyone have seen her for anything but the stunning woman she was? He pulled the hat off her head, letting her golden tresses spill over her shoulders. “Gods, I missed you,” he whispered, threading his fingers through the silken strands. He let Emma push his coat off his shoulders as he shook his left arm so that it didn't get caught on his hook.

“We'll have to be quick, lass,” he mumbled against her skin. “Before this crew of yours gets ideas. You're coming with _me_.” Now that he had her back in his arms, he didn't think he could let her go.

Emma nodded, already fumbling for his laces. “I was hoping it was you,” she replied, a soft moan escaping as his hand finally found the bare skin of her stomach. He pulled her shirt free, loosening the buttons on the vest. He wasn't used to fumbling with shirts and trousers; it was more frustrating than he thought. Killian groaned when Emma snaked her hand into his now loose pants, her fingers wrapping around his cock.

“Fuck, Emma..” He let out a shuddering breath, then went back to work on her breeches. In moments, he had them shoved down her hips, exposing her slick flesh to his questing fingers. He teased her clit with his thumb, making her shiver. “Take one of your boots off, love.”

Emma did as he asked, releasing him and yanking off her right boot and pulling her leg from her pants. As soon as she was upright, Killian hauled her up against the wall, his cock pressing against her slick heat. “Hold on to me,” he warned, just before sliding his good hand out from under her to guide him inside her. They both groaned as he pushed in, her wet walls just as tight as he remembered. It felt amazing having her wrapped around him like this again. Finally.

Killian only got to savor it for a moment before he started moving, setting a quick, almost brutal rhythm, knowing they didn't have long before they were missed. The time for drawn out gentleness and dizzying pleasure would be later, after he got her back on board the _Jolly_ and they were far from here. It occurred to him that he might be hurting her, but Emma made no protest. In fact, she was hanging onto him for dear life, her face contorted in pleasure, little whimpers and moans escaping her perfect pink lips.

“Like this, do you?” he growled in her ear. “Being fucked against the wall by a pirate?”

“Oh gods, Killian,” Emma moaned softly, tightening her legs around him. “More. Please.”

He could feel her getting wetter, her walls just beginning to flutter. He was going to enjoy having her on board his ship, all to himself. There were so many things he wanted to do to her, things he wanted to show her. He wanted to hear those little sounds she made, the way she said his name in the throes of passion. Killian captured her lips again, his tongue mimicking the movements of his cock as he moved faster, harder, trying to drag them both over the edge.

They came together, their kiss muffling their cries of completion. His hips rutted lightly against hers until they were both spent. Killian broke their kiss, panting, leaning his forehead against hers. His body shook with the effort of holding her up. Slowly, he urged her to unwind her legs, setting her down with a dull thud. Emma instantly leaned against the wall for support, her legs shaking.

“You alright, love?” Killian asked, brushing his thumb over the rise of her cheek. He hoped in his need to have her that he hadn't been too rough.

Emma nodded, her movements sleepy. “'M fine,” she mumbled. She raised those haunting green eyes to his. “You're here.”

Killian smiled softly, completely disarmed by her look of relief and happiness. “Aye, lass. I'll not leave you again.”

* * *

The _Jolly Roger_ cast off, leaving the merchant vessel to drift. Her crew was mostly unharmed; the others would be fine in a few days. Killian's crew had relieved them of all the valuables they could find, of course. But the plunder didn't even matter to the _Jolly Roger's_ captain; as far as he was concerned he had the most valuable prize of all.

“It's not much,” he said, pushing open the door to the captain's quarters. “But you can stay here with me, if you like.” If Emma wanted her own space, he would give it to her, but he hoped she'd stay with him.

Emma's eyes widened as she took in the room. “You sleep in here?”

Killian shut the door with a soft click. “Aye. And _just_ me. The crew's quarters are on the deck below.” Now that she was here in his space, he felt oddly nervous. Almost as if he were afraid she'd disappear.

Emma laid her small rucksack on his desk. “The bed's not very big.”

Killian let out a hollow chuckle. “No special treatment for the captain, I'm afraid. But I think we can make it work.”

“I'd like that.”

Killian smiled, as he let out a sigh of relief, knowing that his quarters were decidedly less than she was accustomed to. This was completely unchartered territory for him. He'd never taken to the practice of having a mistress on board. But Emma was different. He couldn't put his finger on _why_ , but she already felt like much more than a way to relieve the tension for him, or a passing fancy. Right now, all he knew what that he wanted her with him and he wasn't sharing her with anyone else. He reached out and cupped her cheek with his good hand.

“I know you must have a million questions,” Emma said softly, covering his hand with hers. “And I promise I can explain. Just...could I have some time?”

Killian frowned, studying her face. Now that the initial shock of finding her had worn off, he could see her exhaustion. He had no idea how long she'd been away from home, how long she'd been on that ship. There were the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I'll leave you to rest. We can talk later, love.”

“Okay.” Emma got up on her toes and kissed his lips tenderly. “I missed you too.”

His crew noticed his decidedly better mood when he got back up on deck. They knew better than to say anything though. If any of them showed any disrespect to Emma, Killian wouldn't hesitate to make them pay dearly for it. And they knew it.

“Mr. Smee, is our cargo squared away?”

“Aye, Capt'n. Awaiting your orders, sir.”

“Take us out. As far as we can get. The wind is favorable. I think we need some new hunting ground.” He wanted to get Emma as far from her kingdom as possible. If she did indeed run away, they would be looking for her. Killian wasn't giving her up without a fight.

Smee shifted his weight, his fingers twisting his red knit cap. “We're not going to ransom the princess?”

Killian rounded on the small man, his nostrils flaring. “Are you _questioning_ my orders, Mr. Smee?”

“N-n-no, Captain. It's just...well, the men were talking...”

“And what were they talking about?” His voice was deathly quiet. Slowly, he could hear the sounds of work die away, everyone within earshot riveted to his conversation.

“That we could get enough for the princess to retire,” Smee said in a terrified voice.

Anger bubbled in his chest. How _dare_ these men question him? Killian thunked his hook into the nearest piece of wood he could find. He looked out over his crew, hellfire burning in his blue eyes. “The princess is under _my_ protection,” he shouted. “If anyone has a problem with that, they can either meet me in single combat _or_ get the bloody hell _off_ my ship. Is that clear?”

The men grumbled their agreement and gradually got back to work. Killian put them on their new heading himself, keeping a close eye on them. Once they were far enough away, they could get back to pirating, with bigger and better prizes, he was sure of it. But no one was getting near Emma. Not if he had anything to say about it.

Just after sunset, Killian headed back to his quarters, lighting the lantern by his bunk. Emma was fast asleep in his bed, wearing only her white shirt. Killian brushed a stray lock of her back from her face as he stared at her sleeping form. She was so beautiful, he could hardly believe she was real. He remembered the first time their eyes met across her parent's hall.

He'd been transfixed, every thought simply leaving his head. He'd never been so dazzled by a woman before, but that truly was the only word he had for her. To him, she was perfect. And naturally, wildly out of his league. He was a pirate, not a fool. But he didn't let that stop him; Killian was never one to back down from a challenge. He'd told her when she'd smuggled him to her room that he'd hoped to see her and that was the truth. He wanted to see her up close, to see if her allure really was genuine. And the night they'd had together had left him with no doubt. Seeing her here now, Killian knew she'd ruined him for anyone else. He had a strong desire to protect her, to make her _his,_ even though he knew she never truly could be. They were from wildly different worlds. But that didn't stop him from wanting. And Emma, it seemed, felt the same. Because she was _here_ with him and not off marrying the Dark One's fool of a son.

He was roused from his thoughts when Emma stirred. She groaned softly and blinked her eyes open, the green almost orange in the low light. “Morning?” she said, her voice heavy with sleep.

“It's just after dusk, love. You slept the afternoon away.”

“Oh. Guess I was more tired than I thought.” She moved to sit up, curling her legs underneath her. “The ship's rocking put me to sleep.”

“Comforting, isn't it? The gentle sway of the sea.” Killian climbed into the bed next to her, holding his arm out for her to join him. Emma instantly curled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. “Of course, the sea has its moments of being less than forgiving.”

“Trying to scare me off, Captain?”

“Love, if I were trying to scare you off, you would know it. I prefer you right here. With me.”

Emma raised her head, chewing her lip. “Still?” she asked hesitantly. “I'm so sorry I didn't come to the gate. I _wanted_ to. I had my rucksack packed. But then Rumplestiltskin's carriage arrived and I couldn't get away. I did try.”

She looked so afraid that he wouldn't believe her—that he'd reject her—it made his heart clench. “I believe you, lass. I won't say it didn't sting, but that's in the past. You're here now.”

“As soon as I knew I would miss you, I decided to run away. Even if I couldn't find you...I couldn't marry him, Killian. I just couldn't. Not after we...” She trailed off, her face adorably flushed.

Hearing her confession brought a swell of shame over him. He'd thought she'd rejected him. Had tried to forget her. Tried to replace her with someone else. Killian tightened his arm around her. “I have a confession, lass.” He swallowed hoping she wouldn't hate him for his faithlessness. “I tried to...well, I tried to forget you. I thought you'd chosen him. But I couldn't go through with it.” She was the only person he would ever admit such a thing to. She was the only person whose opinion even mattered to him. Now he waited with baited breath to see if she'd still want him.

“I didn't give you any reason _not_ to think that. By the time I was ready to go, it was too late. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Emma leaned up and kissed him. “I'm here now. We found each other.”

“I still have trouble believing that you're really here, love,” Killian admitted. “Sometimes I think I'm gonna wake up and find this to be another dream.”

“You dreamed about me?”

“Nearly drove me mad. I couldn't get you out of my head.”

“Me too. The whole time I was on that ship, I checked for the pirate flag every time we saw a mast. Hoping that it would be you.”

Killian looked down at her one brow raised. “And if it _hadn't_ been?”

Emma raised her chin defiantly. “I don't know if you noticed but I'm the daughter of Prince Charming. I know how to use that sword.”

Killian laughed, a genuine, _happy_ sound. He couldn't remember the last time he was truly _happy_. “I've no doubt of that, lass. I think you'll make a hell of a pirate.”

“Is that what you want me to be? A pirate?”

Killian traced the line of her jaw with his curved edge of his hook. “I'll not lie to you, Emma. This isn't a glamorous life. It can be dangerous as well. It's a far cry from what you're used to. And now that you've run away, they'll be after you. But I'd protect you. With my life, if necessary. If you want to stay, that is.”

“I want to be with you, Killian. Wherever that is.” Her eyes were every bit as earnest as they were their first night together, when she'd taken him into her bed. And he knew then that he'd never be able to deny this woman anything.

“As you wish, princess.”

He didn't know what their future would bring. But he never doubted it would be an adventure.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Over the last few weeks, Emma had grown accustomed to the gentle swaying of a ship. When she forced herself to rest, it never failed to put her to sleep. It almost felt like she was closer to Killian, as if she knew that somewhere he was out there swaying with the same waves. It had been a great comfort to her when she inevitably started to second guess her admittedly insane plan to run away and find her pirate. In her darkest moments, she wondered if she'd just imagined their connection; if she'd latched onto it as a means to escape her fate. Then she'd see him in her dreams and wake up even more determined to find him, to find out once and for all if what they had was _real._

She almost couldn't believe it when he appeared the deck of Captain Drake's ship; she hadn't been lying when she told Killian that she'd searched every mast they saw for the crimson flag. But for  _her_ pirate to be the one to find her...any doubt that she had about their draw to one another vanished when their eyes locked on the deck. She had  _found_ him. He had found  _her_ . They had found  _each other_ , just like her parents had so many times.

Now she was here on his ship, in his quarters, with his warm body pressed against her back. Just like that first night, Emma's body ached from their exertions the night before. But they were making up for lost time, all that frustrated desire needing an outlet. And if what she felt against the crease of her ass was any indication, they weren't done. Not by a long shot. She wondered if they ever would be.

She could tell the moment Killian awoke by the way his arm tightened around her middle. “Hmm, morning, love,” he mumbled, his accent thicker with sleep. He brushed a kiss across the back of her neck and she shivered. “Sleep well?”

Emma smiled, even though he couldn't see her face. “Very well, Captain.” She ran her hand over his forearm, enjoying the possessive way he held her, like he was never going to let her go.

“'S good. Wouldn't want the princess to be uncomfortable.” He peppered her skin with light kisses, until his head appeared over her shoulder. Even like this—hair tousled from sleep and her eager fingers, blue eyes heavy, smile lazy—he was by far the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen. She bit her lip as he peered down at her. “There you are.”

Emma nodded, inexplicable nerves coiling in her stomach. She didn't know what she could possibly be nervous about; she'd already given him her body...many times over. She was close to giving him her heart too; that frightened her. In practical terms, she still hardly knew him. But somehow she knew he would keep her safe. And she knew that he needed her, the same way she needed him. That was enough, for now.

“Gods, but you're a beautiful lass,” he said quietly, reverently. He brushed some hair away from her face. “A man could die happy staring at you, love.”

Emma felt her cheeks flush a little. “Is that all you're gonna do? Stare?”

Killian gave her a cheeky grin. “Does the princess have something else in mind?”

She wiggled against him, relishing the way his eyes closed as she came into contact with his hardness. “Minx,” he muttered. “You certainly are a quick study, princess.”

Emma grinned, her nerves slowly melting away as he responded to her touch. She wanted to explore with him, learn the things he liked, what brought him the most pleasure. He'd awoken something in her she didn't quite understand, but she wanted to. And she wanted it with  _him_ and only him. “Do we have time, or will your crew miss you?”

“I always have time for the gorgeous lass in my bed, love.” He rolled her onto her back and hovered above her, slipping easily between her legs. “I _am_ the captain, after all.” Killian flashed her a grin before capturing her lips in a kiss, his good hand trailing over her naked body. They hadn't bothered with clothing while they slept, almost as if they knew this would happen when they woke up.

Emma was bolder now, no longer relying solely on instinct when they were together. She trailed her hands down his back, the muscles bunching and flexing under her touch. It was still hard for her to believe that someone like him could want her this much, the princess who was far more comfortable with a sword in her hand than proper princess behavior. But she supposed that was what had brought them together, her willingness to throw propriety to the wind. She was the one who had invited him into her bed after all. And now she never wanted him to leave.

Killian growled as she touched him, her hands squeezing his ass. She'd discovered how much he liked that the night before by accident and now she planned on taking full advantage. “Oh, you think you're a clever lass, don't you?” he said, his tongue licking the shell of her ear. “I think not, princess.”

He rolled them over in the confined space of the bunk, until he was the one on his back. Emma looked down at him in confusion until he settled her legs on either side of his hips. She could feel him throbbing against her wet folds and it made her shiver. “Yes, I think this will do nicely,” he muttered, giving her one last kiss before pushing her up into a sitting position. “Rise up on your knees, Emma.” She did as he asked, still wondering what he was planning. She watched in fascination as his good hand slid between them and wrapped round his length, his thumb stroking the tip. “You're gonna ride me, love. It'll feel good, I promise.”

Emma bit her lip, wondering how that would work. Ride him? Like a horse? Was that even possible? She assumed it must be; he wouldn't be asking her to do it otherwise. She wondered who  _else_ he'd done that with and jealousy curled in her stomach. She looked down at him and nodded, determined to prove that she could do this. She could be  _everything_ for him.

Killian's stump fell to her hip as he guided her down; she felt the tip of him pressing once more at her entrance and she sucked in a breath as he slipped inside. The pain was long since gone; all she felt now was the delicious drag and stretch as he filled her. Emma bent her knees, catching on quickly, sinking down and down until he was fully sheathed inside her. She let out a low moan; he'd been right, of course. Even like this, having him inside her felt like heaven.

Killian groaned at the sight of her, his good hand coming to rest at her hip. “So beautiful, Emma.” Gently, he pushed on her hips, urging her to move. Emma rose up experimentally—just a little—and saw his eyes roll back in his head. “Gods, love,” he muttered. “You have to  _move_ .  _Please._ ”

He'd never begged for her before and she had to admit it made her feel powerful in a way she'd never experienced. That's when she realized that  _she_ controlled this; he only felt pleasure when she chose. It was a heady feeling. Emma repeated her movement, moving just a little bit more, up and down, carefully watching his face. It took a few tries to really get the hang of it—he slipped out of her a couple of times, making them both whine in protest—but once Emma found a rhythm that they both liked she found herself drowning in pleasure. Killian held on to her hips as she moved, his fingers digging into her flesh, almost hard enough to bruise. But she didn't care. She wanted to remember this.

Killian started meeting her hips with his own, bucking up under her, unable to hold back any longer. “That's it, Emma,” he said. “So good.” His praise was intoxicating; she loved hearing just how good she made him feel. She moved faster, her stomach muscles starting to clench. It wouldn't be long before she tumbled over the edge. She was learning her own body's reactions just as much as she was reading his.

Killian moved his hand, brushing his thumb just above the place where they were joined. Her movement faltered as a shudder raced down her spine. “Killian...” she whispered, bracing her hands on his slick chest.

“You feel so good wrapped around me, love. So tight. Just let go for me, Emma. It's alright. Come for me.”

His low growl went straight through her, right to where he touched her with sure strokes. Emma squeezed her eyes shut as she fell apart above him, stars bursting behind her eyelids. Her movement became jerky and erratic as he continued to thrust up into her chasing his own release. She was still spasming around him when he spilled himself inside her with a shout moments later.

Emma's breath came in short harsh pants as she collapsed bonelessly across his chest, unable to hold herself up any longer. She could feel their hearts pounding against their rib cages, the blood rushing in her ears. Emma felt him wrap his arms around her back and she buried her face in the crook his neck. Pleasure still spiked her blood, little shivers raced over her skin. How was she supposed to find this kind of feeling with anyone else?

Killian stroked her back as they laid there, brushing a kiss across her temple. Emma hummed happily, feeling content and sated. “Do you have to go?” she mumbled, knowing he had duties to attend to as captain.

“Soon,” he replied quietly. “Not yet.”

* * *

Emma noticed immediately when Killian slid out of their bed. She curled in on herself as she watched him dress quietly; she wasn't sure if she should join him or stay behind. As much as she didn't want to let him out of her sight, she didn't want to cause friction with his crew. Better to let them get used to her presence before making waves, as it were. After shrugging into his long coat, Killian bent down to brush some hair out of her face.

“I'll be back soon, love,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Bring us some breakfast from the galley, yeah? You should rest.”

She nodded, not wanting to seem needy or clingy. It was only for a little while and she  _was_ tired. It had been an intense couple of days already. He smiled, brushing his thumb over the rise of her cheek. “There's a good girl. You sleep and I'll be back before you know it.”

He stood, clicking his hook back into place and left the room, closing the door securely behind him. Emma buried her face in the pillow, inhaling his scent. He smelled like rum and leather and salt. It didn't take long before her tired body succumbed to the sway of the ocean and she fell into a deep sleep, the best sleep she'd gotten since she left home.

“ _My lady, you can't. Your parents...”_

“ _Greta, if one thing has been made clear to me since the Dark One arrived here, it's that my parents can't protect me anymore. I_ have _to do this. I won't marry that fool.”_

_Emma furiously shoved a few more pieces of precious clothing into her rucksack; it had been two days since she'd missed her meeting with Killian. Two insufferable days where she'd been expected to be courteous and enthusiastic about her impending marriage. And she couldn't do it. Not when her pirate was out there somewhere. What had begun as a plan to thwart Rumplestiltskin had become so much more than that. Killian was so much more than that. And Emma wasn't giving him up without a fight._

_After swearing her maid to secrecy, Emma waited for the first moonless night, slipping silently from her room taking advantage of the deep darkness and her own intimate knowledge of the castle to the secret passage just outside her parents' suite. They'd installed it just after their marriage when the kingdom was still under threat from the Evil Queen. It was only to be used in the event of a breach of the castle's defenses, but Emma had found it as a child, using it to sneak out and play in the courtyard. She hadn't used it in years, but it was just as she remembered._

_Emma lit a torch once she was inside, carefully climbing down the steep passage. Just before she got to the bottom, she snuffed out her torch and readjusted her rucksack. She was only going to get one shot at this. If she failed, they'd lock her in her room until the wedding and she'd have no hope of escape._

_Emma took a deep breath and pushed open the door. There didn't appear to be anyone in the courtyard when she emerged, but she knew the sentry was due any moment. She hurried along the wall, sticking to the shadows until the last possible moment. Then she ran for the portcullis, looking to climb it and squeeze through the gap at the top._

“ _Stop! You there!”_

_Emma didn't turn, just kept running. She felt someone grab for her from behind and she spun around, her knee coming up automatically. It made contact, causing her attacker to hunch over in pain. She thought briefly about finding something to knock the man out, but there wasn't enough time. She shoved the sentry to the ground, still in pain, and turned back to the portcullis. She could hear shouts now, her tussle with the sentry alerting others. Soon the entire castle would be roused._

_Emma climbed as if her life depended on it, thankful for her father's insistence that she be taught how to defend herself and get out of sticky situations. In moments, she was over the top and climbing down, jumping the last few feet. Once her feet were on the ground, Emma ran again, this time for the forest, where Greta was waiting for her._

_The younger girl huddled under a tree, shaking like a leaf. Emma ran up to her, out of breath, but feeling exhilarated. She was almost free._

“ _Did you get it?”_

“ _Yes, my lady, it's attached to the saddle.”_

_Emma threw her rucksack into a saddle bag and looked down at her maid. She would miss Greta. But she_ had _to get away from here. “Do you remember what I asked?”_

“ _Yes.”_

“ _And I have your word?”_

“ _But all of your things...”_

“ _They're just things, Greta. They can be replaced. My freedom can't. Do I have your word that you'll do as I asked?”_

_Greta stood up, nodding her head. “Thank you,” Emma said, blinking back sudden tears. Her mother especially would be upset, but there was nothing for it. It was either leave or be condemned to little better than slavery. “I hope we'll see one another again.” Emma hugged the girl and climbed up onto her horse. With one swift kick of her heels, she was off and away from everything she'd ever known._

_Emma didn't look back when she heard the alarm raised for a fire in the castle._

* * *

When Emma woke up, Killian was still missing. She assumed he was off dealing with...something. She wasn't intimately knowledgeable about all that was required of a ship captain, especially a pirate captain. When she'd stowed away on Captain Drake's ship, she'd stayed as far away from the rest of the crew as she could, only emerging when she couldn't take being cooped up any longer. She spent hours at the rail searching the horizon for signs of her pirate. Captain Drake was the only one aware of her true identity and had taken pity on her. She'd been on his ship far longer than she expected, but in the end she found what she'd been looking for.

Emma climbed out of the bunk, her sore muscles protesting fiercely. Emma didn't mind the burn, however. It was a reminder that her quest had been successful and that she was with Killian at last. She dug in her rucksack for some clean clothes. Her only earthly possessions were in there; the rest having gone up in flames in the castle. She knew from her mother's experience with the Evil Queen that a sorcerer could use her possessions to locate her, so she'd destroyed everything that belonged to her. It would make it that much more difficult for them to follow her.

Once she was dressed in a loose tunic and breeches, Emma wondered what she should do next. Killian promised to return with something to eat and she was starving. Emma momentarily considered wandering for her own breakfast—or was it lunch now—but changed her mind. She still didn't know how Killian's crew felt about her being on board. Unlike before, passing for a man was out of the question. So she decided to examine his cabin instead. What she found surprised her. There were shelves of books; they were well worn and dusty as if they hadn't been read in quite a long time. Once again, she wondered what had happened to Killian that made him the way he was. She pulled out one of the thicker books— _Regulations of the Royal Navy_ \-- and started flipping through it, her eyes scanning the pages for some clue about her pirate's past.

The knock on the door startled her, the book falling gracelessly to the floor. She looked up in time to see Killian stepping through the door, basket hanging from his hook and a jug of water in his hand.

His brow creased as he looked at her. “Did I startle you, love? You look a fright.”

“No, no, it's okay. I was just reading.”

“I see.” Killian sat his goodies on the desk and bent down to pick up her fallen book. “Afraid you won't get much from that, love,” he said with distaste, handing it back to her. “Very boring.”

“Why do you have it?”

For the first time, he looked a bit uncomfortable. “It was my brother's. He died.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.”

“It was a long time ago, love.”

Emma moved closer to him, taking his hand in hers. “I'm still sorry. But I'll understand if you don't want to talk about it.”

Killian looked down at their joined hands, then back at her face. “You are far too kind to dastardly pirate, Emma.”

She smiled. “Hey, I happen to  _like_ the dastardly pirate. And I'm not exactly a paragon of virtue here. I did invite the dastardly pirate into my bed and practically begged him to have his way with me. And that's not even counting all the other  _not_ lady like things I've done. You've got yourself a princess who's not all that fond of actually  _being_ a princess, Captain.”

“And do I? Do I have the princess?”

Emma leaned up and placed a gentle kiss to his lips. “You have the princess for as long as you want her.”

“That might be a long time, love.”

“I know.”

This all had the probability of blowing up in both their faces, but it didn't matter. It was too important not to at least  _try_ . Emma would take all the happiness she could find with him, and hope that if something did happen, it would be enough to keep her warm through the lonely days without him. Because she was fairly certain he'd ruined her for anyone else.

When she looked back at him, there was something in his eyes, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Whatever it was it was gone as almost as soon as it came. Killian grinned down at her, gesturing at the basket with his hook. “I brought you some things from the galley. You must be starving by now. Let's eat and you can tell me how you wound up on that ship.”

It was almost  _normal_ , sitting at his desk munching on bread and cheese, telling the story of how she escaped the castle. Killian winced sympathetically when she got to the part with the sentry.

“Remind me never to upset you,” he said, taking another bite of cheese. “Bloody dangerous.”

“My father always insisted I know how to defend myself...just in case.”

“He might be regretting that now.”

Emma chewed on her lip. She knew her parents had to be worried and frightened, but she couldn't go back. “I don't care,” she said defiantly. “How could they do this? How could they marry me off? To someone I don't love? It's not fair.”

“Not much in this world is fair, love. Believe me, I know.” The bitterness in his words surprised her.

“Your brother?” she guessed.

Killian sighed heavily. “Aye.” He paused, as if weighing whether or not he wanted to tell the story. “Come here, lass,” he said at last, tugging on her hand to pull her into his lap. She went without hesitation, immediately relaxing as his arms came around her. “The  _Jolly Roger_ used to be a ship of the line, the pride of our kingdom's fleet. My brother, Liam, was her captain. She was the  _Jewel of the Realm_ then. I was his lieutenant.”

“You were in the navy? Which kingdom?”

“It doesn't matter. We were sent on a mission to find a plant that healed all wounds...or so we were told. It turned out the plant was a deadly poison. Dreamshade. Liam, the stubborn arse, scratched himself with one of the thorns and...he died in my arms.” Killian paused again; Emma could see the tears swimming in his blue eyes. She waited patiently for him to continue, not speaking, sensing he didn't want her pity. “I took over the ship and vowed to get my revenge. Turned the _Jewel_ into the _Jolly Roger_ and hoisted the crimson banner. I've been a pirate ever since.”

Emma wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, brushing a kiss over his temple. Her heart broke for him; she could see how the loss of his beloved brother still hurt him. It occurred to her just how strong his connection to her must be if he was willing to risk that kind of pain again...just for her.

“I had all my things burned,” she said quietly. “To make sure they couldn't find me.”

Killian looked at her curiously. “How's that?”

“Magic. When my mother was fighting the Evil Queen...you can locate people with magic,” she explained. “With something they own. I asked Greta to burn all of my possessions after I left.”

Killian swallowed, his eyes wide. “You destroyed all your earthly possessions...so you could run away and find me?” She nodded. She wanted him to know how important this was to her, even if she couldn't exactly put what she was feeling into words. “Gods, love, I'm not worth all that. Why would you do that?”

“You're worth it to _me_. I know all of this is crazy. I know this _shouldn't_ work, but since that day in the great hall...it feels like I'm _alive_ for the first time in my life. Like I'm finally living the life that I want to live. I don't want to be Queen or rule or any of that. I did those things because they were expected of me, not because I actually wanted to. I want _this_. I want _you_.”

“I swear I'll look after you, Emma. Anything you want...it's yours.”

She smiled. “I already have what I want.”

“Do tell, love.”

“Well, there's a certain pirate captain I'm rather fond of...”

Killian raised an incredulous brow. “Really now? Do I need to fetch my sword? Challenge him to single combat perhaps?”

“I hope not. We wouldn't want to harm that pretty face...or that pretty...everything else.” She blushed furiously, still getting accustomed to this side of herself. It was something she'd hadn't even known about before him.

“Everything else? I know you can do better than that, princess.” His voice was low and coaxing, urging her to come further out of her shell.

Emma let her hand rest over the bare skin of his chest, where his shirt lay open. “You hardly need me to tell you how handsome you are, Killian.”

Killian pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “On the contrary, love, your opinion is the only one that matters to me anymore.”

“Funny, I could say the same thing about you.”

“Tired of courtiers fawning all over you?”

Emma wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Believe it or not, that is not as flattering as it sounds.”

“What, having men at your beck and call? I'm surprised you didn't have a line of suitors from here to Neverland.”

“Who says I didn't?”

“If you did, I'm fairly certain you wouldn't be here.”

Emma leaned until her lips brushed over the shell of his ear. “You're the only man I want in my bed, Killian. The only one I want  _inside_ me.” She tugged on the lobe with her teeth, pleased when she heard him groan. He gave her the confidence to do things she'd only ever  _read_ about, to embrace her more sensual side. She could be anything she wanted with him.

Killian's grip on her tightened, his fingers digging to her flesh. She moved down below his ear, kissing along his neck, paying attention to the sounds he made. She adjusted her seat, giving her better access to his throat. The scruff of his beard tickled her nose as she moved; she could feel his pulse jump under her tongue and it only spurred her on.  _She_ was the one that was making him feel like this; she couldn't help the swell of pride that rose in her. Her hand slid under his shirt and vest, exploring the plains of his chest, the hair soft under her fingertips.

“Emma, love, if you want this to go any further, you best let me up.” She could feel what her ministrations were doing to him; he was hard and warm against her thigh. She left one last nip to his neck before getting up. Killian immediately stood and shrugged out of his heavy coat; his fingers going to his vest and shirt. Emma, eager to touch him, helped him strip to the waist, then pushed him back into the chair. She knelt before him, eyes feasting on his exposed skin. She would never get over just how gorgeous he really was. Her fingers traced the leather of his brace, up to where it buckled across his shoulder. Carefully, she unbuckled it and slid it off, the ravaged end of his stump exposed. She'd seen it before, but hadn't really gotten to touch it. It didn't bother her in the slightest; it was just another part of him. Emma touched it lightly, feeling the bumps and ridges. She lowered her head and kissed every one, letting him see that she accepted this part of him. Emma felt his hand tangle in her hair and she took that as a good sign.

She hadn't had much chance to explore his body the way he had hers. Part of her had still been too scared, but mostly it was just that Killian was that demanding. She didn't really have a frame of reference, but even she could tell he was a very attentive lover, at least with her. Her pleasure always came first. This time she wanted to do something for him. So she did the things she had imagined that day in the Great Hall, when she'd wondered how he'd feel under her touch. Killian was all hard muscle and sinew; his skin tasted faintly of salt. She worked her way across his chest, his legs opening for her to give her all the access she wanted.

“Gods, Emma,” he breathed as she found a sensitive spot on his ribcage. “Can't remember the last time someone touched me like this.”

She blinked up at him in surprise, disbelief coloring her features. How could a woman see this man and _not_ want to touch him? It made no sense to her. She may have been untouched before him, but she wasn't a fool. She'd heard lewd stories from some of the servants that would have made her mother furious if she'd known. As far as Emma was concerned, Killian was the embodiment of all those things that a male specimen should be, hook be damned. And now, he was all hers.

“Killian...”

“Please, love, don't stop. Your mouth...” He quirked a brow at her, his eyes suddenly far away. “Lass, I know you haven't done this, but could you...” He gestured down to his pants, where the bulge strained against the laces. “I want to feel that mouth on me, Emma. Please.”

His blue eyes pleaded with her. His breathing was shallow, hips rocking ever so slightly, need practically radiated off him. In her exploration, she hadn't noticed the full effect of her ministrations. She hesitated, unsure how to proceed.

“Nevermind,” she heard him mumble.

“No!” Emma cried, a bit louder than she meant to. “It's like you said. I've never...show me?”

“You're a brave lass, Emma.” Killian loosened the laces on his pants, sighing in relief as his length came free. Here in the daylight, she could get a good look at it for the first time. Her mouth went dry, she could feel her core clench involuntarily. The things he could do to her with that...she shook her head absently. This wasn't about her. She wanted to do this for _him_. But Killian caught the look on her face, beaming with pride. “Later, lass. I promise. Now up on your knees.”

She did as he asked, raising herself up. Killian nudged his pants down his hips enough so that they wouldn't be in her way. He stroked himself a few times before bringing his hand to her shoulder and encouraging her to bend toward him. “Go on, Emma. Wrap your hand around me. That's it.” She repeated his stroking, still getting used to how he felt in her hand, hot and hard and smooth. Killian moaned softly, biting his lip. “Now...lower your head, lass. Just go at your own pace.” He threaded his fingers into her hair again, guiding her down. Emma took a deep breath, then opened her mouth, taking him in. It was a strange sensation at first, but when her tongue brushed up against him, she jumped back as his hips rocked up suddenly.

“Sorry!”

“No, love, it's my fault. You just felt so good...I couldn't hold back.” He settled deeper in the chair. “Care to try again?”

Emma looked at him skeptically, but moved back into her former position. She wanted to prove to herself that she could do this. That she could be what he needed. Because the way she was starting to need him scared her a little. She bent over and took him in once more, as far as she could without choking, then pulled back. Killian's deep sigh of satisfaction let her know that she was on the right track. She kept going, gaining confidence as she moved, licking him with her tongue the way he did for her. Soon, Killian's hand was back in her hair, guiding her, encouraging her to move faster.

“Gods, love, just like that,” he breathed. “So perfect with your mouth, Emma. So warm and wet and _fuck_.”

Emma could feel her own desire rising, hearing how much he loved this making her burn with want. She rubbed her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the tension, but to no avail. She needed to get out of her clothes, but she also didn't want to release him. Killian noticed, however.

“Are you wet for me, Emma?” he asked breathlessly. “Do you want me to fuck that sweet cunt of yours? Even sweeter than your mouth, that is.”

Emma moaned around him, his words driving her crazy. All of this was decidedly _un_ princess like behavior, but she didn't even care. All that mattered was Killian and the desire they shared. Much to Emma's surprise, Killian pulled her away, dragging her up until she was standing before him. “Strip,” he ordered. “Right now. Or I'll have to tear those off you.”

Emma was fairly certain she'd never stripped so fast in her life; her clothes thrown haphazardly to the floor. Killian didn't even bother removing his pants; he just picked her up and sat her on the desk, her legs falling open automatically. This was becoming a familiar dance for her now.

Killian bent his head and kissed her, his hand moving down to her folds. “You _are_ wet, princess. Bloody _soaked_. Did you enjoy it? Sucking my cock? Can I look forward to such pleasures in the future?”

Emma swallowed, still a bit bewildered by her body's reaction. But she nodded. “There's a good lass,” Killian replied, the tip of him nudging her entrance. “Bloody natural you are. Felt incredible, love.” Emma rocked her hips against him, getting impatient. Killian growled, low in his throat. “My wanton princess.” Then he thrust forward, taking her in one smooth motion. Emma groaned loudly, relieved to have him inside her again. She didn't think she'd ever get enough.

He was only still for a moment before taking her with deep rough thrusts; Emma wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, trying to keep him inside her. It only drove him deeper, making them both cry out. She pulled him down for a kiss, becoming more sure of herself every time they were together. Their mouths clashed in a desperate union of lips and tongues and teeth as his movements became more and more erratic. He body was trembling with need, the tension nearly overwhelming. Killian snaked his good hand between them and touched her just above where they were joined, rubbing her with fast circles.

“Come for me, Emma. Let me feel you.” He nipped at her lip, drawing it between his teeth. His commanding tone shot her over the edge, her muscles clenching tightly around him as she cried out his name. She clutched at him desperately, needing something to hang on to as she rode out her climax. She heard Killian grunt through her haze as he thrust one final time, spilling himself inside her.

Their heavy breathing was the only sound in the bright cabin. Emma rested her head against his sweat soaked chest, listening to his heart beat as her own gradually slowed. At length, Killian picked her up once more and laid her in the bed. He shucked off his remaining clothes and joined her, curling her into his side. It was the middle of the day, but they didn't leave his cabin the rest of the afternoon.

At nightfall, they dressed and went up on deck. Emma wondered what was going on until he handed her his spyglass with a smile. “Look up at the stars, love. Pick one. And we'll follow it wherever it may lead.”

And for the first time since learning of her marriage, Emma allowed herself to hope.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Killian looked out toward the horizon, feeling calmer and more content than he had in _years_. Which was a dangerous feeling in his line of work. Contentment led to laziness and arrogance, both of which could get you killed. But try as he might, Killian couldn't stop it, didn't _want_ it to stop. It was the happiest he'd been since Liam's death nearly a decade ago.

And the reason for that happiness sat down by the capstan, diligently restitching an old sail.

In the weeks since Emma had come aboard the  _Jolly Roger_ , she'd taken to this life like a duck to water. It wasn't long before she demanded to be given  _something_ to do, not wanting to seem like she was only there for him. If she was going to stay, she'd told him late one night as they lay sated in their bunk, then she wanted to earn her keep. So Killian had begun teaching her the ways of sailing and started her on some menial tasks, which had done much to placate his crew. Killian was well aware of the superstition of having a woman on board; there were a few older members of his crew who privately grumbled about her presence. Never to his face, nor hers. But Mr. Smee was always a help in keeping Killian attuned to the needs of his crew. Once Emma had begin to dispel the spoiled princess reputation, most of the grumbling ceased. Plundering a few smaller merchant vessels helped too. Seeing Emma fighting...he couldn't deny it, he had been impressed. It had also stirred his blood like nothing else, and when they'd gotten back to the ship, he practically dragged her to their cabin and had his way with her. Very enthusiastically. Several times.

Killian left the helm in the hands of Mr. Smee and headed down to where Emma sat. The warm summer sun deepened the gold color of her hair; she was a bit more tan than when he had met her. There were freckles dusting her cheeks now. But she was still beautiful, still his. He just hoped he could hold on to her.

Emma smiled at him before he could get out a word of greeting. “There you are.”

“Miss me?” He hoped she didn't notice the way his hand twitched slightly as he waited for her answer. There was a not so small part of him that worried she'd grow tired of him one day, ask to be sent home. But it never seemed to come.

If anything, Emma's smile got brighter. “I always miss you, Killian.”

He shot her a cocky grin. “Can't say I'm surprised, lass. I hear ol'John's not very good company.” The man had taken Emma under his wing, with Killian's blessing, to show her the less glamorous aspects of being on a pirate ship. John had been on Killian's crew from the very beginning, one of the last hold overs from the  _Jewel of the Realm_ . If there was anyone he trusted to keep Emma safe when Killian himself wasn't with her, it was John Randle.

“He's not that bad. I've seen worse.”

“Aye, I'll bet that castle of yours was just crawling with nefarious ne’er-do-wells,” he said, as he sat next to her.

“Like you?” Emma asked, a credulous brow raised.

“Touche.” He eyed her lecherously, his eyes running over the bare skin that her rolled up shirt exposed. “But is it truly crawling when one is _invited_ , love?”

Emma flushed prettily and tried to go back to her work. But Killian pulled her hands away from the worn cloth. “Later, lass. I want to show you something.” Gently, he helped her up and kept his hand at the small of her back as headed below to their quarters. When he shut the door behind them, Emma cocked her head curiously.

“What's going on, Killian?”

He rubbed his fingers behind his ear; it was a nervous habit, he'd had it since he was a child. Few people ever saw it these days. “How would you feel about a port call?” he asked.

“Is that wise? Are we far enough away? I don't want to cause trouble.” It had been unspoken, but Killian knew the idea of being found and forced to return home terrified her. Sometimes he'd wake up in the middle of the night and Emma would be wide awake, worrying. When that happened, he'd ply her with kisses and soft touches, until she was thoroughly distracted and needy for him. He meant what he'd said when she first came aboard; he'd defend her with his life.

Killian brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “We've been at sea for weeks, love. Steadily sailing  _away_ from your kingdom, following your star. The  _Jolly Roger_ 's the fastest ship in all the realms. And we have to put into port sooner or later, for supplies and such. You'll be safe, I promise.” The world would have to pry her from his cold heads hands before she came to any harm.

Emma relaxed. “I know. I trust you, Killian.”

“Now that that's settled, would you like to see where we're going?”

“Yes!” Her enthusiasm was infectious and Killian planted a kiss on her lips before pulling out the map.

“See here?” he said, spreading it out on the desk. “That's where we're headed. I've never been there, but it looks promising. A good harbor at least. And there's a rumor of a festival there abouts. Should be the right time of year for it.”

Emma bent over the map, reading the names. “I think I may have read about it....maybe. So many of my lessons when in one ear and out the other. My mother always said I never took them seriously enough.”

“If they were anything like _my_ lessons, love, I can't really say that I blame you. Bloody boring.”

“Says the man with a small library in his cabin.”

“Most of them were Liam's. I certainly did what I was told like a good sailor, but that doesn't mean I _enjoyed_ everything I read. But, it's come in handy a time or two, I'll grant you that.” He kissed her temple. “So what do you say, love? Ready to spend a night or two on dry land?”

“I would be honored, Captain.”

* * *

“Prepare to dock to port, Mr. Smee!” Killian shouted. “Randle, Haynes, man the bow lines and pull us in _slowly_. Is that clear?”

“Aye, Captain,” Randle replied as he and his companion hurried off.

The dock in this place was smaller than he'd hoped; the _Jolly Roger_ would only just fit in the berth. But it would do. They would only be here two days at the most, enough time to get some supplies and have a much needed rest. Killian was all too aware of what he was putting on the line to keep Emma safe. He wouldn't have if he didn't believe that she was worth it. Until he met her, he was the quintessential selfish pirate, only out for himself and his crew. But she brought out something bigger than himself, a desire to protect her, to make her happy. If that meant he had to jump twice as fast to avoid someone's brig, then that was what he was prepared to do.

Once they were docked, he went to speak to the harbormaster. His instincts told him they were well beyond the reach of their pursuers, but he wasn't taking any chances. The old man took one look at Killian's hook and gave him all the information he needed. They'd had no word of a missing princess, no wanted posters on the walls. They would be safe here for a few days. Killian tossed the man a few coppers and went back to his quarters, where Emma was waiting for him.

“Killian? Is that you?” Emma said, as he pushed open the door. Her voice sounded breathless and annoyed.

“Aye, love, it's...” Killian came up short when he saw her. _“Emma.”_ He swallowed, suddenly feeling the way he had when he saw her for the very first time in the Great Hall. “You are _stunning_.”

Emma looked up at him, her cheeks faintly pink. A loose tendril of hair fell from her slightly sloppy up do. She smoothed out her skirt; the dress itself was a gift, something Killian had purloined from their last catch. He was sure the noblewoman he'd stolen it from wouldn't miss it. “I never was very good at doing this by myself. I always had Greta to help me.”

“Rubbish. You're _gorgeous_.” He took the three steps that separated them, cupping her cheek with his hand. “You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.”

Emma blinked at him, going even more red, her skin beginning to match the color of her gown. “If you're just trying to...I don't know... _make fun_ of me...”

He frowned. “Love, I have only _ever_ been completely honest with you. You deserve better than idle flattery from some foppish prince.”

“Flattery from a pirate is better?” she quipped, a smile tugging her lips now. “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me, Captain.”

Killian let his hand trail down the smooth column of her throat and over the rise of her breasts. “And if I was?” That hadn't been his intention when he'd come to fetch her, but now...she was making it awfully difficult for him to resist her. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been dreaming of ravishing her dressed in something like this.

Emma's breathing hitched as she reached out and pulled him closer. “I'd ask what you were waiting for.” She looked up at him with all too knowing eyes, those green orbs making him lose all sense of time and good form. In the weeks since she'd come on board, Emma had gotten bolder with her affections and sexuality; often it only took a look and crook of her finger and he'd be hopeless to resist her. Their passion and desire didn't seem to have an end. Emma ran her hands up under his coat and pushed it off his shoulders. “Take me, Captain.”

Killian's eyes fell closed, a groan tearing from his throat. He thought about all the things he wanted to do to her dressed like this; they didn't have time for most of them. His crew was waiting for them; no one left for shore until he did. When he felt her hand slid around his backside, squeezing through the tight leather, he growled. “Sod it. They can wait.” He crushed his lips to hers, his kiss bruising and rough. His hand went to the back of her dress, loosing the laces so she could breath as he pushed her back toward the desk.

“Later, I'm going to strip you slowly, princess. Kiss every inch of your skin, make you beg. For being a bloody irresistible _siren_.” He bent his head, kissing the exposed swells of her breasts, part of him wishing he could just rip the gown from her, but then she'd have nothing to wear to the festival. She arched into his touch, pushing her hips against his wantonly, a moan tumbling from her lips. He sucked on her skin, tempted to leave a mark in plain view, but decided against it. She deserved better than to branded like a common harlot.

“Bend over the desk, Emma. _Now_.” She obeyed him, her fingers curling around the opposite edge. Killian tore at the laces of his pants, sighing when the pressure eased. She wound him up _so_ easily and _so_ thoroughly, it made his head spin. As soon as his cock was free, Killian pushed up Emma's skirts, exposing her long legs to his hungry gaze, spread for him invitingly. He was surprised to see that her usual undergarments were missing. “Bloody minx,” he muttered. He ran his hand over the swell of her perfect ass before smacking it lightly. Emma groaned, rocking back toward him. Intrigued, Killian did it again, just a little harder. Her answering moan made his cock throb and twitch. Seemed the princess liked that. Very much. Filing that information away for another time, he rubbed his erection against the cleft of her ass before sliding down to her dripping entrance. “Gods, love,” he whispered, a bit awestruck. She was so responsive, so eager for him. It was intoxicating. He lined himself up and thrust home, filing her completely; their mutual groans of satisfaction echoing the cabin.

“Killian...” Emma breathed, hips rocking toward him again. “Please.”

Killian pulled almost all the way out, until just the barest tip remained inside her before slamming back in, rattling the table. Emma mewled in pleasure and he repeated the action over and over again until she was quivering in his hold. “You're gonna feel this, Emma,” he growled. “Walking around that festival. You're gonna remember what it feels like to have me inside you, fucking you like this. But that's what you wanted, isn't it?” He thrust into her sharply when she didn't answer him, his fingers squeezing her hip. _“Isn't it?”_

“Yes!” Emma cried. “Gods, _yes_. More, Killian. _Fuck_.”

Hearing her curse, seeing her completely abandon that prim and proper facade, drove him crazy. He was the one who made her like this, a wanton, needy mess. Like this, she wasn't a princess, she was just Emma and she was _his._ He changed the angle of his thrusts, seeking out the place sure to make her come undone. Emma shivered and cried out, her knuckles white against the edge of the desk. “Right _there,_ Killian. Gods.”

Killian used his hook to hold back her skirts so that he could see. He watched as his cock disappeared inside her, hitting that perfect spot that make her walls start to flutter. “So beautiful,” he murmured, releasing her hip and sliding his hand under her seeking out her sensitive flesh. He flicked his finger against her clit, her legs shaking. “Let go, Emma. Let go.”

She screamed out her climax, her walls clamping down on him mercilessly, almost instantly sparking his own. He pushed through it, drawing out their pleasure for as long as he could. He would never get tired of what if felt like to have her, to experience the pleasure only she could bring him. Killian had been with his fair share of lasses, but none of them compared to Emma. She was perfect for him, just as he was perfect for her.

When his hips stilled, Killian bent down and brushed her hair away from her neck, pressing a kiss to it. “You are amazing, love,” he whispered, nuzzling against her. There was something else he wanted to say, words that had been eating at him for weeks, but he bit them back. He was still unsure what all this meant to her, what he meant to her. Until he was, he would keep his true feelings to himself. He'd show her how he felt instead.

“Hmm, so are you,” Emma replied lazily, a smile tugging at her lips. Killian chuckled and stood up, pulling out of her. They both made a small sound of protest, already missing that connection. Killian tucked himself back into his pants, doing up the laces quickly. Emma pushed herself up and started straightening her gown. When she reached for the washcloth to clean herself up, Killian stopped her.

“I think we should leave that,” he said softly, a devilish smirk on his face. “I rather like the idea of you walking around with my essence dripping down your thighs.”

Emma bit her lip, regarding him with huge eyes. But at length, she nodded, setting the washcloth aside. “There's a good girl.” Killian helped her adjust her skirts, then had her turn around so he could relace her corset, his hand and hook working in tandem.

“Where'd you learn to do that?” Emma asked.

“Princesses aren't the only one with corsets, love.”

“Oh.” She said it such a small voice he almost missed it. Killian tied the laces off, making sure she could still breathe comfortably, then turned her around to face him. “That's all in the past, Emma. _You're_ the one that I want. The only one.” He thought again of the words he wasn't saying, hoping her could see them in his eyes.

“I wasn't jealous,” Emma protested.

“Of course you weren't,” he agreed easily. He could see that she was lying; he'd caught flashes of jealousy from her before. Clearly, the idea of him being with someone else bothered her. But he had no desire to look elsewhere when he had her. “But if you were...it looks rather fetching on you, darling.” He captured her lips in a reassuring kiss. “My beautiful princess.”

Emma shook her head. “With you, I'm just Emma. I can't thank you enough for that, Killian.” She looked so hopeful, so adoring, it made his heart ache. He didn't deserve someone like her, he knew that. But he'd keep her with him for as long as he could. Killian pulled her to him, wrapping his arms carefully around her waist, not wanting to snag the fabric of her dress on his hook. He kissed the top of her head.

“Just stay with me,” he murmured softly into her hair. “Just stay.”

* * *

There were a few discrete smirks when they emerged from his cabin, but Killian just glared, daring anyone to say something. Emma didn't seem to notice, or she did and was doing her best to ignore it. It was difficult for Killian to tell. Either way it didn't matter. If anyone made her uncomfortable, they'd be off his ship faster than they could blink. Loyalty to him meant loyalty to her as well.

Killian gallantly took her arm and led her and the rest of the crew down the gangplank. The festival was going on in the center of town; the streamers and banners could be seen from the wharf. As soon as they were clear of the ship, his crew started to scatter, headed off to see what there was to see, grab a pint somewhere. They didn't get to stop in many places like this; it was a bit of a novelty to them.

“Shall we, Emma?” Killian asked, heading in the general direction of the festival.

She beamed up at him and he felt that pang in his heart. “Lead on, Captain.”

There were so many people, more than Killian had see in quite a long time. He guided her through the throng, his hook and brooding countenance parting the crowd easily. He could almost imagine they were a real couple, a lord and his lady as they took in the sights. There seemed to be paper mache dragons hanging from every available surface, in all different colors and sizes, which Killian found a bit curious.

“I know what this is,” Emma whispered to him as they walked. “It's the Festival of Sir Gideon, the knight who slayed the last known dragon. I remember my mother talking about it.”

“Dragon slayer, eh?” Killian laughed. “How hard can that be?”

“My father did it.”

“He did?”

“Before he met my mother. He was pretending to be his twin brother James for King George.”

“Sorry, did you say _pretending_?”

Emma nodded. “It's a bit of a long story actually. Maybe I'll tell you sometime.”

“I think I'd like that.” He still knew so little about her, about where she came from. They hadn't spoken about the past much, preferring to focus on the present. He bought them some mead and sweet cakes and found a bench to sit on, next to one of the more prominent shops. They ate quietly, watching as children played in the street. Emma, in particular, was fascinated.

“Come, love,” he said, reaching for her hand. There was something about the wistful look on her face that worried him. “Let's go burn some of that treasure.”

“Killian?”

He leaned in close to her ear. “What's the good in being a pirate if you can't spend your booty?”

“That is an excellent point.” She allowed him to help her up and lead her toward the myriad of shops. It wasn't something he'd ever imagined himself doing, but he wanted her to have nice things. Especially since she'd destroyed everything she had just to be with him. The shopkeepers took one look at Emma's gown and practically fell all over themselves to accommodate her. Killian often found himself simply standing in the corner watching her toy with them, an entertaining exercise. She may not want to be a princess, but she was clearly born for it. She held herself with dignity and grace and didn't suffer fools. As he watched her, Killian fell more in love with her.

He knew what it was now. He loved his vivacious, stubborn, beautiful princess. Looking back at it now, he realized he had from the moment he'd laid eyes on her. It was why he'd put off escaping from the dungeons until the very last moment, hoping to catch another glimpse of her. It was why he'd rejoiced in his unbelievable good fortune when she'd smuggled him up to her room. Why'd he'd been so hurt when she'd seemed to have chosen another. It had been so long since he'd loved someone; it had taken him a while to recognize it for what it was. Now it was too late to go back.

But she wasn't his, not really. In reality, she was promised to another. It was something she hadn't chosen, so she rebelled against it. She'd left the only life she'd ever known and found him. Him, Killian Jones, pirate. Emma chose to be with him; he was the one she needed. Killian could only pray she felt as he did. The alternative was too awful to contemplate. If she loved him, he'd fight to the very gates of hell to keep her. Even against the Dark One himself.

A poor lad of about twelve walked past him, laden down with packages. “The captain's quarters,” Emma was saying. “And don't drop anything.” She came over and slipped her arm around his. “Are you alright?” she asked. “You looked far away.”

He flashed her a grin. “I'm fine, love. Finished?”

“I may have gone a bit overboard,” she said, biting her lip. “I hope you don't mind.”

“Emma, the _Jolly Roger_ is your home now. You may take anything aboard that you wish.”

Her green eyes sparkled at the word _home_. “You've been so good to me. I don't ever want to be a burden.”

“Not possible. You're a hell of a pirate, Emma. You belong there, just as much as I do.” He leaned down and kissed her. “Now I heard there's a little country dance at this festival. Shall we?”

“You know how to dance?”

Killian looked wounded. “I told you, love,” he said, as he wound her arm around his. “I was a naval officer in a former life. Knowing how to dance was expected of a gentleman officer.”

“For squiring around all those unmarried high born ladies looking for a husband no doubt,” she teased.

“Believe it or not, Emma, I was once a very shy—dare I say it _uptight—_ youth. Not much squiring going on.”

Emma looked up at him incredulously as they left the shop and headed in the direction of the dance. “Uptight? You?”

 “Aye. Be thankful you didn't know me then; our life would be decidedly less... _exotic_ if that were that case.”

"I'm going to have to see these dancing skills in action, Captain. I think you're all talk.”

“A challenge, is it, lass? You should be careful. I never lose.”

Within minutes, they found the town square where the space had been cleared for dancing. It was growing dark now; lanterns were mounted on posts bathing the entire space in a soft orange glow. A group of minstrels played in one corner; they weren't very good, but it was enough. When the song ended, Killian led Emma out to the floor for the next dance.

His hand curled at her waist, while he held up his hook. Emma didn't hesitate; one hand went to his shoulder while the other curled around his hook. A little unconventional, but he was sure if anyone could adapt, it was Emma. A few of the other couples looked at them oddly, but he paid them no mind. If Emma was comfortable with him, then that was what mattered.

“So far, so good, Captain,” Emma said with a smile.

“I'm far better than _good_ , as you well know, love,” Killian countered. His next words were stolen by the music of the bloody awful minstrels, as they both started to move automatically, instantly settling into the ebb and flow of the dance. He was mildly surprised she let him lead, but soon realized she was testing him, to see how good he really was. It had been ages since he'd danced like this, but it didn't feel like it. Every move was effortless, Emma feeling light at a feather in his arms, moving gracefully, every inch the princess she truly was. He didn't look around, keeping his eyes focused on hers. They only broke eye contact when he spun her away from him, her hand smoothing over his hook, skirts twirling, until she was back in his arms with a huge happy smile on her face. Killian grinned back at her, wondering what he'd done to be so incredibly lucky.

When the music stopped, the crowd erupted in applause. Killian looked around and realized that he and Emma were the only couple left, all the others having fallen to the wayside. He looked back at Emma, who was blushing furiously. “Best give them a bow, yeah?” he whispered in her ear.

“I suppose.” Emma grabbed his hand and went into a low curtsey, while Killian bowed beside her. They rose to more applause before Emma tugged on his hand, guiding him away. They disappeared into the crowd, anonymous once more.

“Do we have to go back to the ship?” Emma asked, once they were alone again.

“Not if you don't want to. We'll be here until at least tomorrow. If everything's in order we'll sail at high tide.” In the morning he would check with Mr. Smee that they had enough supplies to last them for a couple of months. They couldn't afford to come ashore as often as they used to, not with Emma's family looking for her. “Why do you ask?”

“I was...hoping we could sleep in an actual bed. We haven't since...”

“Since you invited me into your bed,” Killian finished for her. So much had changed since then. “Although we didn't do much _sleeping_ in your bed, love.”

“I don't think we'll do much sleeping tonight either.”

Killian shrugged. “Who needs sleep when I have the most beautiful lass in all the realms in my bed?” Besides, he'd made a promise to her earlier, one he fully intended to keep.

* * *

The innkeeper couldn't leave the room soon enough for Killian's liking. He practically shut the door in in the old man's face, bolting it for good measure. He didn't want anything to interrupt them. Killian watched Emma examine the slightly seedy room as he stripped off his coat, vest and boots. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, leaning down to kiss her temple.

“Not quite as nice as your room, I'll grant you. But the bed looks comfortable enough.”

“It's fine. Sometimes I can't believe that I'm really here with you.”

“For as long as you want to stay, love.”

Emma turned around in his arms, her green eyes wide in the low light. “Does forever work for you?”

The way her voice cracked slightly as if she were afraid of his answer made his heart hurt. “I don't think forever would be long enough,” he said, touching her cheek. He took a deep breath, hoping that he was reading her correctly. “I'm in love with you, Emma.”

She was still for a beat, tears swimming in her eyes. “I'm in love with you too, Killian. I think I have been for a while...I was scared you didn't feel the same way.”

“How could I feel any other way? You've turned my world completely upside down, Emma. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.” There may have been a time early on when he could have extradited himself from this, but that time was long past. Standing in front of him was his future.

“Show me, Killian. Make love to me.”

“As you wish, my love.”

Killian reached up and pulled the pins from her hair, letting her golden tresses cascade over her shoulders. He leaned down and kissed her deeply, tongue sliding out to tangle with hers as her lips parted for him easily. Emma slid her hands under his shirt, sliding over his back, scratching lightly with her nails. “Aha, princess,” he mumbled pulling away from her. “I believe I made you a promise earlier. And I intend to collect.” He pulled the offending garment over his head, then scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

He spread her out on the duvet, tossing her shoes to the floor. He kissed the arch of each foot, smirking when he heard her moan softly. Hand and hook trailed along her legs, the cool metal making her shiver. “Would you like me to keep the hook on, darling?” he asked, kissing the back of her knee. He always made it her choice if she wanted him to wear it or not; he was surprised how often she let him.

“Please,” Emma said softly. She was already squirming under his touch, her breathing shallow, and he'd barely begun.

Killian rolled her over and started loosening the ties on her gown, fabric rustling as he stripped it from her body. Slowly, methodically, skirt, petticoats, bodice and chemise found their way to the floor, Killian kissing every new patch of skin he exposed. His own pants were becoming painfully tight, but left them on, wanting to focus solely on her pleasure for the time being. Once she was naked, Killian kissed a trail down her back over her spine, his hand seeking out the spots he knew were sensitive. He'd come to know her body well over the last few weeks, able to play it like a fine instrument.

“You are so beautiful.” He said it often—every chance he got, really—and he always meant it. There were no portrait painters in the land who could properly capture the laughter in her eyes or her sunkissed hair or the grace of her curves. Those things were for his eyes alone. He turned her over again, kissing the hollow of her throat. “I love you, Emma.”

“I love you, Killian.” She tugged on his hair, dragging him up to her lips and she kissed him thoroughly, as if trying to memorize him. He understood the feeling. When she tried to reach for his pants, he batted her hand away.

“I'm not finished with you yet.”

Killian lowered his head, taking one pert nipple into his mouth, suckling at her flesh. Emma keened and arched, unprepared. His hook grazed the other, the curved edge circling the sensitive skin.

“ _Killian...gods.”_ Her hand tangled in his hair, tugging on the strands, making him groan against her skin.

“I love hearing you say my name like that, Emma.” He went back to her breast, grazing his teeth over it, still wanting to hear her beg. When he knew she couldn't take anymore, he moved down, kissing her stomach, until he was settled between her thighs. His hook grazed the inside of one, evidence of their earlier encounter still smeared over her skin. “It was quite distracting, love. Knowing you were like this all day, that you were branded as _mine_. No one gets this but me.”

Emma nodded vigorously, rocking her hips toward him. “What do you want, love? I want to hear you.”

Her eyes flitted to his hook, teeth chewing on her lip. He merely raised a brow at her, not letting her get away with that. “I want your hook,” she said at last, their war of wills shortlived. “I want you to touch me with it.”

“There's a good lass.” Carefully, he brought the hook up between her legs, using the curved edge to part her folds, rubbing over her slick skin. Emma moaned in pleasure, inching her legs even further apart. The hook quickly became coated with her arousal as he teased her. The fact that she _wanted_ this ruined part of him to touch her, and to touch her like _this_ , left him in awe. She truly did love him as he loved her.

Killian moved the hook up to her swollen nub, her hips jerking as the metal came into contact with her skin. “Killian!” He just grinned and did it again, pressing harder, circling with smooth stokes. He lowered his head between her splayed thighs and licked a stripe through her folds before returning to her entrance and plunging his tongue inside her. He was relentless, tired of teasing her, needing to feel her around him. But he wanted to hear her scream his name first. He had to hold her hips down so that she didn't cut herself on the sharp end of his hook, her hips bucking in his hold as she cried out his name once more, her walls contracting around nothing. He lapped at her, arousal covering his mouth and chin. She tasted divine.

When he finally pulled away and sat up, Emma was panting, a thin sheen of sweat on her skin, hair matted to her forehead. A lazy smile curved her lips and her eyes were closed. He hoped she could handle a bit more, because he still needed her. Killian pulled at the straps for his brace, chucking the entire contraption to the floor. Then he shucked off his pants, groaning at finally being free of the confines of the straining leather.

“Emma,” he said softly, kissing her stomach. “I need you, love. Please.”

She opened her eyes and looked down at him. She swallowed and nodded, reaching for him. He sighed with relief and settled back between her thighs again, distracting her with a kiss as he took her. Her walls were still fluttering with aftershocks as he moved, hoping he could bring her to another peak before his own overwhelmed him. Emma moved with him, the uncertainty and shyness of their first time gone now. This was a woman who knew her body and knew what she liked. She brought her legs up around his hips, locking her ankles at the small of his back. It drove him deeper until he bottomed out inside her, making them both groan.

“Fuck,” Emma breathed. “Just like that, Killian. Harder.”

He did as she asked, his own need nearing its breaking point. “Touch yourself, Emma. So fucking close.”

Emma reached between them, rubbing and pinching her clit, burying her head in the crook of his neck muffling her shout as she climaxed again, walls gripping him like a vice. He followed her a moment later, hips rutting against her as he whispered her name like a prayer.

Killian rolled off her, pulling her with him until her head rested on his chest. It was some time before either of them could draw enough breath to speak. “You are...a bloody marvel, my love,” he said, kissing her hair.

Emma made a sound very much like a purr, a happy, sated sound that filled him with joy. Everything felt different now. He knew that he wasn't alone in this, that she felt the same way he did. It also terrified him. If he lost her like he lost Liam...the world would know his pain, of that much he was certain. But for now, he had her and he intended to keep her.

* * *

Killian woke up far too early the next day, the sun shining through the window. He groaned, his muscles protesting, feeling a bit sore and used. If he felt like that, he could only imagine how Emma felt. At least twice she'd woken him to have her way with him, not that he was complaining. Although it did occur to him that he'd had more sex in the last few weeks since he met Emma than he had in  _years_ . It was nearly impossible to resist her and he didn't want to try. He decided to let her rest, knowing he'd never be able to go back to sleep now.

He'd go down to the docks and check in with Mr. Smee, then surprise Emma with breakfast.

“Any problems, Mr. Smee?”

“None, Captain. Supplies are being loaded as we speak.”

“For how long?”

“A couple of months worth. Salt pork, cheese, potatoes. I found some reasonably priced fruit. We should eat well for awhile.”

“If Hammond's cooking is up to scratch,” Killian laughed. “Did the princess's packages arrive in one piece?”

“Aye, Cap'n. Taken to your quarters as ordered.” The short man fidgeted. “Um, if you don't mind me saying so, sir...she seems to be taking to all this rather well. The men have been impressed.”

Killian kept his face stern, while secretly pleased. Emma was going to be permanent fixture on his ship, it was best for his crew to get used to her presence. “She's a tough lass, Mr. Smee. They would do well to remember that.”

“Aye, sir.”

On his way back to their room, Killian stopped at one of the carts and got some more sweet cakes. Emma liked them well enough the day before. He stopped to have a brief word with the innkeeper to inquire about them staying another night. Now that they had some time, he wanted to enjoy their freedom away from his duties.

That all came to a halt when he heard a scuffle and a loud thump from upstairs. Killian dropped his basket and ran, taking the stairs two at a time, inwardly cursing himself for not having his sword. He flung open the door to his room and came up short.

Emma stood there wrapped in a sheet, hair disheveled, a broken jug in her hand. At her feet lay John Randle knocked out cold. Cold fury rose up in Killian's chest. He didn't know precisely what had happened but he knew he'd been betrayed.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains violence. If you're squeamish or easily triggered, skip about two thirds of it.

It had all happened so fast.

One moment Emma was mustering the energy to get out of bed and dress, hoping that Killian would soon be back from wherever he'd gone...and the next she was scrambling to her feet frantically tying the sheet around herself as _someone_ invaded their room.

She couldn't even see who it was; her attacker had a woolen muffler covering his face. She moved on instinct honed by long hours training with her father.  _No matter what, find a weapon_ , he always told her.  _Anything will do_ . The closest thing to her was the huge jug for the wash basin, so she picked it up and prepared to defend herself, while trying to stamp down the panic. This wasn't like when she joined Killian's crew, fighting alongside them. She was prepared for that, she'd  _trained_ for situations like that. To have someone  _invade_ her privacy like this was the most terrifying moment of her life.

But her attacker gave her no time to focus on her fear. Clearly, he'd expected her to still be asleep, because all he had was a length of rope. He tossed it angrily aside and came at her in a rush. Emma tried to move but tripped on the long sheet, sending her tumbling to the floor, her jug skittering away from her. She scrambled, trying to reach it, when she was hauled up around the middle. She fought and kicked and scratched and yelled, but he was too strong for her.

That's when she saw his face. “John?” She couldn't understand why  _this_ man was doing this to her. Killian trusted him.  _She'd_ trusted him. What could he possibly want with her?

“Shut up.” His voice wasn't kindly at all now; it was angry and rough and it scared her far more than anything else. “And _stop_ squirming, you royal bitch.”

That only made her fight harder, wrenching her body into an awkwardly painful angle as she tried to kick the one place that she knew would hurt. But it was no good. Randle threw her down on the bed and slapped her across the face. “Move and I will gut you,” he growled. Emma went still, dazed from the blow; even now, she could see that he meant it. She knew Randle always had a rather large knife strapped to his leg. Until she could find a way to incapacitate him, playing along was her best option. Another one of her father's lessons. _Buy time. You can get out of almost anything with enough time._ Randle held her by the wrists, her legs tangled in the sheets. He was trying to remove his belt one handed, for what Emma could only guess. “I can see why the Captain likes you. He prefers his whores to have some fight in them.”

Killian's face flashed before her eyes; she was never going to see him again. Randle was yanking on his belt as Emma looked around frantically for something, _anything_ to use as a weapon. But there was _nothing_. Finally Randle got his belt free and loomed over her, pushing the sheet up her legs.

But that was Randle's great mistake.

Her legs free of the tangled cloth, Emma kicked at him with all her strength. Her foot made contact with his very soft parts, sending him reeling over with a howl of pain. She kicked him in the head for good measure. Emma rolled away from him, flipped herself over to the other side of the bed and ran for the heavy jug. Randle staggered toward her; she ducked around him—his movements slow and clumsy due to the massive pain he was in—and brought the jug down on his head with all the force she could muster. He dropped like to stone to the floor as the jug cracked and broke.

That was how Killian found her seconds later, still breathing hard and in complete shock.

Her eyes locked with his and she saw for the very first time cold hard fury. In an instant, she saw why people feared this man. And yet, she'd never been so happy to see anyone in her life. She swayed precariously on the spot, the adrenaline of the last few minutes draining away. Killian was already moving, stepping over Randle's prone form and gathering her in his arms, his good hand stroking her hair.

“I've got you, Emma,” he whispered brokenly into her ear. “I've got you. Everything's alright now.”

She held onto him like a lifeline, waiting desperately to believe him. Nothing made sense. She had no idea what had happened or why. All she could hear in her head was Randle—someone who'd helped her, who seemed to like her—say those vile things.

Killian pulled back a fraction, so he could get a look at her face. She could tell the moment his eyes lit upon the place where she'd been struck, because he went from concerned to murderous in a span of a blink. “I will  _kill_ him.”

There was groan from behind him; Emma's eyes went wide. Killian released her, put her firmly behind him and stalked over to where Randle lay. He kicked the man viciously in the stomach, then again in the head, knocking him out cold once more. He found the rope and tied Randle's wrists and ankles together, before securing him to the heavy dresser.

Once he was certain Randle was no longer a threat, Killian came back to her, cradling her face in his hands. “Emma, love, I need you to get dressed,” he said gently, in complete contrast to the violence he'd just displayed. “I'm taking you back to the ship. Mr. Smee will guard you until Randle is in the brig.”

She wanted to protest that she didn't need a guard, that she wasn't a child, but words wouldn't come. She'd beaten Randle—she was fine—but her strength was failing her. She was confused and betrayed and hurt and she just wanted to feel safe. She nodded, letting Killian guide her back to her clothing and helping her dress.

“Why the brig?” she asked suddenly. It was the first time she'd spoken since Killian found her.

Killian's face darkened. “I want to know why a man I've know for over a decade would do such a thing. Then I'm going to kill him.”

* * *

“Perhaps you shouldn't be here for this, lass.”

Emma threw her braid over her shoulder. “I need to know just as much as you do.”

She'd thought about it a lot in the hours since Killian had brought her back to the  _Jolly Roger_ . Her sense of panic and unease had begun to dissipate as soon as she was back on board. Here, she was home. She'd come to associate that ship with everything she held most dear to her. Now she was angry instead of frightened and needed to understand why this had happened. The only way to put it behind her was to confront it.

“It could get ugly, love. If he doesn't talk.” Killian looked over at her, his face hard. “I don't know if I want you to see that.” To see _him_ , was what he meant. For her to see him as something other than the man she loved.

Emma swallowed, but didn't turn from his gaze. “I know who you are, Killian. This won't change that. Do what you have to do.”

He nodded grimly and picked up the bucket of cold water with his hook. He splashed it across the unconscious man's face, startling him to wakefulness. Emma stayed back, but remained in view. Killian stayed between her and Randle at all times; he couldn't get to her here.

“So good of you to rejoin the land of the living, Mr. Randle,” Killian drawled, sounding outwardly jovial, but with a hint of menace behind it. “It seems I need to have a few words with you.”

“Captain...it's not what you think.” Randle didn't look the least bit sorry or regretful, nor did he seem to comprehend the danger he was in. It didn't make sense.

“Oh really? You mean you _didn't_ break into my room and put you treacherous hands on my princess?” Killian pulled out his file and slowly started scraping it across the tip of his hook, sharpening it.

Randle glared at Emma. She shivered. “I don't use whores, _Captain_ ,” he spat.

Killian punched Randle in the face, splitting the man's lip wide open. Blood dripped down his chin and into his beard. “Talk about her like that again I will end your miserable life right here.”

Randle spat blood on to the wooden floor. “She really does have you be the balls, doesn't she?”

Killian got in Randle's face, the tip of his hook at the man's pulse. “You have ten seconds to tell me what the bloody hell you're on about before I rip out your throat. I've heard it's a _painful and slow_ way to die.”

Randle openly scoffed. Emma could swear he was mad.“Piss off. The Captain Hook I knew would have already killed me. You're not him. You're just some pretty boy who lets his cock do his thinking for him. It's pathetic. Your brother would be ashamed of you,  _Captain._ ” There was a flash of silver, a splash of red. Emma recoiled when she saw the ragged gash across Randle's stomach. The man groaned in pain, but she didn't feel sorry for him. Not after the things he'd already said and done.

The now red stained hook came up under Randle's chin, Killian's voice deathly quiet. “I  _am_ going to kill you. After I find out why after more than ten years of serving under my command you would betray me—betray your  _family—_ in this manner, Mr. Randle.”

Randle's breathing was getting shallower; his shirt was soaked with blood. If he didn't talk soon, he'd be dead anyway. Emma thought for a terrible moment that he  _wouldn't_ answer, that the mystery would die with him. If that happened...what then? Who could they trust if not Randle? Killian loved his crew; he was a good captain to them. He never said anything, but she knew things had been strained her first few days on the ship. But she thought they'd put that behind them. Apparently, she'd been wrong.

Finally, Randle held up a shackled hand. It pointed right at Emma. “Her.”

For the first time, Emma found her voice. “Me? What did I do to make you hate me? I don't understand.”

“You took our captain from us.” Randle turned back to Killian. “You want to know what I was doing? I was getting rid of her, of the distraction. There's a bloody price on her head! Do you know how much? 100,000! Do you know what we could do with that kind of treasure? We're _pirates_ , Captain, and it's about bloody time we acted like it, instead of ferrying around a runaway princess. You would have never held on to a potential prize for so long. That princess would have been ransomed and forgotten weeks ago. She's done something to you, make you _weak_.” Randle sucked in a breath, his strength starting to fail him, but she could tell he wasn't finished. Whatever he wanted to say it had clearly been building for some time. She could see Killian's jaw clench; it was the angriest she'd ever seen him. He was practically quivering with fury.

Randle looked past Killian and straight at Emma, even though his words were intended for the former. “A pirate ship is no place for a woman. If you spent more time actually being our captain and less time riding that fancy filly of yours you'd know that. But maybe I just don't get the appeal. Maybe I should try out that sweet cunt for myself...”

Killian was moving before Emma could blink. Raw red rage fueled his blows, his fist pummeling Randle's face until it was little more than a bloody broken pulp. He spat venom at the man as he struck blow after blow, his knuckles battered and broken, blood spattering his clothes and chest. When the storm died, Emma thought Randle was dead. But he wasn't. Emma could hear blood gurgling in his airway. She turned away and left, unable to see anymore.

* * *

Emma wasn't sure how much time passed. She talked to no one, pushing past people to get back to the captain's quarters. She felt sick and worried. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to be turning Killian's crew against him. What if Randle wasn't the only one? She bolted the door behind her and crawled into the bunk, curling into a ball. In the span of a less than an hour the _Jolly Roger_ had become foreign to her. All she could think about was those awful things Randle had said.

Above her, she heard the familiar sounds of the crew preparing to head out to sea. She wondered if she'd be going with them.

There was a sharp knock on the hatch. “Emma? Please tell me you're in there.” Killian.

Emma got up reluctantly and released the bolt. “I'm here.”

Killian came in, his clothes still blood stained, his eyes clear now. And looking at her worriedly. “I'm so sorry, lass. I should have never let you see that.”

“It was my choice,” she said, her voice sounding flat and lifeless to her own ears.

“I know, but...”

“Is he dead?”

Killian nodded. “Aye, love. He's dead. He can't hurt you again.”

“You...should change. Your shirt's soaked.”

Killian noticed her odd tone. “In a minute. I'm more worried about you, lass.”

“I told you before, I'm fine.”

Killian frowned, his gaze concerned. “You are bloody well _not_ fine, Emma. Talk to me. Please.”

Emma threw the compass she'd been fiddling with. It smacked hard against the wall. All of the thoughts that had been tumbling around in her head since Randle's confession came spilling out of her in a rush. “What do you want me to say, Killian? We were fools to think this was ever going to work! A man you've trusted for _years_ turned on you because of me! Your crew hates me. I won't make you choose me over them.” Her lip trembled as she tried not to look at him. She couldn't say it if she was looking at him. “I should...go. I don't belong here. I should go...home.”

“If you think I'm letting just walk the bloody hell out of my life, Emma, then you don't know me very well.”

“We both know this can't work. We're too different. Something's going to happen. Sooner or later. You know that. It'll be better for everyone if I leave. You can drop me at the next port and I'll find my way from there.” Every word she spoke shattered her heart into a million tiny pieces but she didn't see any other way.

“Emma,” Killian began, stepping toward her. She shied away from his touch, knowing she'd cave the second his skin touched hers. But Killian thought it was because of the blood. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, tearing at his clothes until he was bare from the waist up. He grabbed the washcloth and impatiently wiped the blood from his chest and hand. Then he tried again, reaching for her. “Emma. Emma, please. Just let me hold you, love.”

He stared at her, those blue eyes sad and pleading, and her resolve crumbled. She crossed the small space that separated them and buried her head in his chest. His arms came around her in an instant as he held her tightly. “Gods, I thought it was _me_. I thought you were afraid of _me_. I don't...I couldn't take that.” He kissed her hair, her temple, any place he could reach. When his lips brushed hers, she moaned softly and pulled him back for another, needing to feel his lips on hers. How could she have ever considered giving this up?

“Don't take any of what that traitor said to heart, darling. Please don't. You belong here. With me. I love you. Gods, I love you so much.” He was kissing her again, taking away any thought she had of reply. She tugged on his hair trying to get even closer. Having him there with her was chasing away the unpleasant memory of her tussle with Randle. She deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue between his parted lips. He growled low in this throat and pulled away, panting.

Killian scooped her up and took her to the bed, removing his hook before stretching out next to her. He brushed soft kisses to her forehead and cheeks, his lips lingering on her bruise. She could feel his love for her in every touch, how much he hated that he hadn't been able to protect her. But Emma just wanted to forget. For a moments, she just wanted to forget. She sought his lips again, her kiss fierce and full of urgency. Her hand curled behind his neck and into his hair as she tugged him down to her, wanting to feel him pressing her into the mattress.

“Emma,” Killian said, his breathing ragged, blue eyes filled with lust and worry. “Darling, are you _sure_?”

Her heart ached at his concern for her. But she wanted this, wanted _him_. “I'm sure.” He searched her eyes for a long moment, then nodded once before lowering his lips back to hers. It felt a bit like their first time all over again, as Killian touched her with exquisite care, never moving too fast. He stripped her bare, randomly brushing kisses over her flushed skin.

Emma gasped softly as he suckled her breast, his hand kneading its twin, the sensations going right to her aching center. Her back arched and Killian slipped his stump under her, holding her in place. He nipped and sucked at her nipple until it was tender, then slid across to do to the same to the other. There'd be bruises there, Emma was certain, but she wanted them. She wanted him to touch her everywhere, to wash away any lingering imprint of someone _else_ on her skin.

Her head pressed back into the pillow, biting back a curse as his hand slipped between her legs, fingers brushing her aching flesh. “Killian...”

“You are always so wet for me,” he said softly, thumb circling her clit. Emma shivered, his voice and touch igniting her blood. “So warm and tight around me. Makes we want to fuck you all the time, love.” He slipped a finger inside her, kissing down her stomach as he pumped it slowly. He added a second and third, his rings stretching her as they slipped past her entrance. Emma moaned loudly, fisting the sheets in her hands, feeling so deliciously full as he fucked her with his fingers. Desire pooled in her stomach, her hips rocking upwards seeking out more friction. She could feel her climax approaching and she shook her head violently.

“Killian, stop. Please,” she begged. “I want you inside me. Gods, I _need_ you inside me.” Emma needed to him to make her his, just like he did that first night. There wasn't anyone else. There never could be.

Killian's forehead fell to her stomach as he sucked in a shaky breath. “As you wish,” he muttered, pulling his fingers from her. He trailed them up her torso to her parted kiss swollen lips. “Have a taste?”

Emma didn't hesitate, taking his index finger into her mouth and sucking it clean. The taste of herself was foreign, but not unpleasant. It tasted tangy and salty. She repeated the action with the other two, sucking and licking, watching Killian's face. He looked completely wrecked and mesmerized by her and she knew without a doubt that he felt as she did.

Once his fingers were clean, Killian reached down and tore at the laces of his pants, shucking them off impatiently. Then, to her surprise, he rolled them over so that Emma was on top, straddling his hips. He bucked his hips under her, grinding against her heat. “Go on, love. Take me home.”

Emma slipped her hand between them and guided him in, sinking down to the hilt, their moans of relief filling the cabin. “Gods, you feel _amazing_ ,” she whispered, almost to herself. He fit inside her so perfectly, dragging along her walls, stretching her. It was like they were always supposed to be like this. She rose up on her knees until only the tip of him remained inside her, before sliding back down, moving slowly, wanting to savor the moment.

Killian watched her with heavy lidded eyes, his hand and stump resting on her thighs, letting her have all the control. “That's it, love. You are so beautiful like this. Ride me, Emma.”

Emma increased her pace, her eyes locked with his, reveling in the swirl of emotions she saw in them. She was the one who had brought the dreaded fearsome pirate to his knees. Randle believed that her hold on Killian was bad, was making him less than who he had been. But Emma saw the truth in Killian's eyes. He was so much _more_ with her, so vibrant and alive. And she knew he did the same for her. Meeting him had been like waking up from a dream, everything becoming crystal clear for the very first time in her life. There was no way to go back to who she had been. This was where she belonged.

Killian slid his hand over where they were joined and teased her swollen nub. “Faster, my love. Come on. I want you with me. So bloody close now.”

Emma shuddered and did as he asked, slamming her hips against his, head through back. She could feel it coiling in her stomach again and this time she would let herself fall. In moments, the world went white behind her eyes as she let out a soft cry. Killian was right behind, hips jerking under her as she milked him dry.

Emma collapsed against his sweat slicked chest, the pressure on her tender nipples making her wince slightly. But she didn't care; a little pain was a small price to pay for something that felt that incredible. She felt Killian kiss the top of her head as his heart thumped against her cheek. “I love you, Killian,” she breathed.

“I know, lass. I know.”

* * *

The sun was sinking through the window; it was late afternoon. She knew there were surely things Killian needed to be doing but he made no move to leave the sanctuary of their room. Instead, he stayed with her, alternately dozing and making love. She knew they would need to talk, but tried to avoid it for as long as possible.

Killian was stretched out beside her, hand drawing nonsense into her skin. But she could tell he was ready to talk. She nodded silently. Killian swallowed and brushed his fingers over the bruise on her cheek. “I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I should have been.”

Emma curled her fingers around his reassuringly. “You can't be with me all the time, Killian. And I do know how to take care of myself.”

He gave her a soft smile. “You certainly do, lass. It's one of the things I love about you.”

Emma bit her lip. “I was so scared,” she said in a small voice. She may have been capable, but that didn't mean she had been frightened out of her wits. She hated admitting weakness, but if she couldn't be honest with _him_ , then what was the point?

Killian looked pained, even though he surely knew what happened wasn't his fault. “So was I.”

“You were?”

“Emma, do you have any idea what you mean to me? If he had done something...worse...to you, if I lost you...” He swallowed, his blue eyes shining with unshed tears. “Randle was right about one thing, love. I'm not the man I was. If I had a choice between you and this ship...I would choose you.”

Emma looked at him with huge eyes. Deep down, she knew that. But to hear him say it out loud... “I don't want you to make that choice. Ever.”

“May not have a choice about that, Emma. Don't you want things beyond life on a pirate ship? See your parents again? Have a family of your own?” His hand drifted down to her stomach. “I admit I've never given it much thought, not until you. After I lost Liam...I still had my ship. And I thought it was enough. But now I know it's not.”

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying that I'm yours, Emma. If you'll have me.”

She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill onto her cheeks. “I want that more than anything.”

“Then let's have no more talk of you leaving. We'll stay right here, living as we choose , until the world decides it has greater plans for us.”

“But your crew...” That part of what Randle said still worried her.

Killian's eyes darkened. “Has been dealt with. I ordered the rest of the malcontents off before we left port. It seemed Randle's misplaced rage only passed to a couple of others. But I informed those who stayed that loyalty to me means loyalty to you and if they couldn't handle that to leave now before I made them walk the bloody plank.”

Emma remembered vividly how Randle had looked when she left the brig. She knew Killian had done it; she'd witnessed it with her own eyes. So when he threatened his crew with a similar fate, she knew he wasn't bluffing. She knew what he was capable of. And yet, he didn't frighten her. He never had, even when he stood bold as brass in the Great Hall of her parents' castle and sassed her father, the King. He'd been sentenced to _death_ for those crimes. For all that he had undoubtedly done, Emma knew deep in her soul that she was safe with him. That he would never treat her with anything less than the respect she deserved. That he loved her and cherished her and wanted her.

And if this adventure had taught her anything...Killian wasn't the only one in the room capable of violence to protect someone he loved.

* * *

Emma woke up in a cold sweat; the cabin was pitch black. Blindly, she reached for Killian but the bunk was empty. Her throat was raw and she couldn't remember why. All she knew what that her heart was racing and she was so, so frightened.

She jumped about a foot when the door burst open and a bright light temporarily blinded her.

“Emma! What's wrong? What's happened?” Killian's voice was instantly recognizable as her eyes adjusted and he sat the lantern on the shelf. He sat on the edge of the bunk, carefully examining her for any sign of harm. “Nearly scared me half to death. The whole ship heard you screaming.”

“They...they did?” She croaked. That explained why her throat was sore.

“Lass, don't you remember?”

Emma shook her head. Now that he was with her, she was beginning to calm down. At least her heart was. “Must have been a nightmare. I'm sorry.”

Killian frowned, tutting. “You have _nothing_ to be sorry for. I'm the arse who left you alone.”

“Not even you can protect me in my dreams, Killian.”

“I can bloody well try.”

That got her to smile a little. “I have no doubt of that, Captain.”

Killian touched her cheek affectionately. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Emma frowned, thinking. “I don't think I remember very much. Something about a dark hallway...it didn't seem to have an end. Then...I got grabbed from behind. That's when I woke up.”

Killian scowled. “Randle. It's no wonder with all that's happened today. I was an idiot to leave you alone, even for a moment.”

“I don't _know_ if it was him, Killian.”

“He can't hurt you anymore, Emma. He's gone. That's where I was. As soon as you were asleep, I went with Mr. Smee to ensure the body was disposed of. Had to wait until we were far enough out to sea.”

“I know he can't.” Apparently, her subconscious didn't seem to agree.

Killian combed his fingers through her hair. “My brave lass,” he murmured, kissing her forehead. “Let me give Smee the all clear, then I'll come back to bed. I'll read to you, yeah?”

“Hmm, I'd like that.” She loved listening to him speak, his lilting accent capable of being soothing, arousing and everything in between. He loved to show off his erudition, so they both got something out of it. When he stepped out to confer with Smee, Emma pulled on one of Killian's shirts and perused his shelves in the dim light. They'd been reading a book of thrilling swashbuckling tales, but given the circumstances, Emma didn't think Killian would mind if she wanted to read something else. She found a thin book of poetry she hadn't noticed before. When she pulled it out, it nearly fell apart in her hands. Carefully, Emma cradled it against her chest and brought it over to the lantern.

It was old, careworn. The edges of the cover were frayed, the pages yellowed. She pulled back the cover to find some clue about its contents; the title had long since worn off. But there was no title. It was a manuscript, pages lovingly tied together with thread. The first page seemed to have an inscription, but it was difficult to make out completely. The ink at the top of the page was faded. Emma brought it closer to the light, to see it better, and was stunned by what she read.

It wasn't just one inscription. It was an entire series of them. The book had been passed down through the generations, from husband to wife, then presumably to their children. The inscription at the very bottom of the page read: _My dearest Charlotte for all the days of my life, Alexander._

Emma's fingers moved over the words, trying to figure out who they were. Then she turned the page and gasped softly. Written in Killian's elegant hand were the words: _Darling Emma for reminding me that love is always worth the risk, Killian._

“You weren't supposed to find that.”

Emma looked up, a lump in her throat. Killian stood in the doorway, another lantern in his hand. He didn't appear angry, just lovingly exasperated. He smiled gently and entered the room, shutting the door behind him with a click. He crossed the small space, sitting the second lantern beside the first making the room a bit brighter. He sat next to her on the bed and wrapping his arm about her shoulders and kissing her temple. “Should have known you'd find it sooner or later.”

She looked up at him, wondering what he was talking about. “What is it?”

Killian took the book from her, setting it aside. “It's a tradition. The story goes that my great-great-great...who bloody well knows anymore...grandfather wrote a series of poems, trying to woo the woman he loved. When she married him, he had them bound and given to her as a gift. Ever since, the book has been passed down from mother to son, to be given to the son's wife at their marriage. My mother...died before she could give it to Liam. He found it among her possessions, carried it with him. When he died, it fell to me.” Killian sucked in a shaky breath. “Never thought I'd see it again, to be honest. It just stayed there, gathering dust. Until _you_.”

Emma sniffed. “I'm sorry, Killian. I didn't mean to pry.”

Killian brushed away the tear that ran down her cheek. “Nonsense, love. It belongs to you now anyway. I just hadn't found the right moment to give it to you.”

“Would you read them to me? The poems?” Killian may not have thought about the book much after his brother's death, but she could see it still meant a great deal to him. It might even be the last connection he had to his family. Other than Liam, this was the most Emma had ever heard about his past, his family.

“Of course. I'll warn you though. Some of them aren't very good. Bloody awful, if you ask me.”

Emma smiled. “I'll take my chances.”

“Good girl.” He kissed her, very nearly chaste, before turning to arrange the pillows and blankets in his bunk. Once he had everything the way he wanted it, Killian pulled Emma into his arms, her back against his chest. Emma brought the precious book with her, pressing it into his hand. Killian cleared his throat, his hooked arm coming around her middle, and began to read.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Killian laid awake in his bunk, listening to Emma's soft breathing, gently stroking her hair. She'd been woken by another nightmare, green eyes wide and terrified. He managed to soothe her back into sleep, humming an old sea shanty, but each time she woke was like a knife to his gut, filling him with rage at the man who'd done this to her.

But John Randle was dead. Killed by Killian's own hand.

They'd been at sea for more than a week now; Killian more or less turning over the daily running of the ship over to Mr. Smee until he could be certain Emma was alright. He knew all too well how a traumatic event like this could affect the psyche; he'd had nightmares for weeks after Liam's death, reliving it over and over again in his dreams. For Emma, who'd been sheltered and protected all her life, this had to be rude awakening that the world could be a cruel unforgiving place. Killian wished for nothing more than to be able to take that away for her, to make her feel safe.

He just wanted to make her happy.

Killian must have drifted off himself at some point because the next thing he knew, there was something warm and wet moving over his arousal. His eyes flew open as a groan tore from his throat. There he found Emma, blonde hair still tousled from sleep, with her lips wrapped around him, sucking him off. They'd had to slow down in the days since Randle's betrayal, as her monthly course had come and gone. Emma had tried to hide her disappointment, saying it was for the best, but Killian could tell. On their very first night together, she'd shown that she wasn't averse to carrying his child. It had been for a entirely different reason then, but the point stood. Killian was surprised by how disappointed he'd been as well, but the realist in him knew it wasn't the time for things like that. And besides, it was so much fun to continue trying.

Emma saw him wake, but didn't move away. She kept bobbing, swirling her tongue around him, teasing his tip. “Emma,” Killian groaned, his hand moving into her hair. “Gods, love.” His hips bucked up slightly, trying to get more of her sweet mouth. He'd known from that very first time how good she'd be at this, but now she knew exactly how to make him writhe in pleasure, how to make him cry out her name in ecstasy. She licked the underside of his cock from base to tip, her tongue tapping the sensitive spot just below the head.

“ _Fuck,”_ Killian moaned, hand tightening in her hair. “So good, Emma.” His hips rolled, seeking more friction, more of her talented mouth. Emma hummed around him and Killian's head fell back as he bit back a curse. He wanted desperately to just take control and fuck her mouth until he came, but he wanted to see what she'd do. He loved when she initiated their encounters; seeing her explore her sexuality was a huge turn on for him.

Emma reached between his legs and gently fondled his balls, massaging them in her delicate hand. No one had ever taken the time to learn his body like she did; he'd never given them the chance, going for a quick fuck in his cabin or against a wall somewhere. Just enough to release the tension, then back to work. But with Emma, he just  _wanted_ all the time. Wanted to touch her, kiss her, hold her, worship her. He couldn't get enough and knew now that he never would.

Emma took him deeper into her mouth, her eyes narrowed in concentration. It wasn't until he felt himself brush the back of her throat that he realized what she'd had in mind. He tried to pull back, but it felt too good; no one having done  _this_ for him in an age. It was so much more than he'd ever expected of her and it was driving him mad with want. His hips stuttered as she continued to move, his release so, so close now. When she swallowed around him, her muscles contracting, Killian came with a shout, eyes squeezed shut, stars popping in the blackness. Emma kept her mouth on him, riding him through it, taking everything he had to give. He slumped back against the mattress, completely spent, hand still tangled in her soft tresses. Emma released him with a wet plop, wiping at her mouth with her hand. When Killian opened his eyes, she was looking down at him with a mischievous grin on her face.

“Morning,” she said, as if everything was normal and she hadn't just woken him in the best way possible.

He gave her a slow grin. “It is a  _very_ good morning, my love.” He combed his fingers through her sunshine kissed hair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Emma shrugged. “I missed you.”

The corners of his mouth quirked up in a small smile. “I've been right here, lass. For as long as you need me.” He didn't want her to ever think that all he wanted from her was sex. She was so much more than just his lover. His entire world revolved around her and had since he met her, before he even knew her name.

“You know what I meant. But thank you for that, Killian.” She pressed a kiss to his stomach before crawling up his body and curling into his side. His stump immediately came around her, holding her in place.

“This is exactly where I should be,” he replied, kissing the top of her head.

“I've been keeping you from your duties,” Emma said, worrying her lip between her teeth.

“Nothing Mr. Smee can't handle, love. You're what's important.”

“Still...it might do all of us some good to...I don't know... _do_ something. Your crew needs you too.”

“Are you sure you're up for it, lass?” He didn't want to push her too far, not with Randle's betrayal still fresh.

Emma lifted her head, resting her chin in her hand. “Killian, as much as I love spending time with you, we can't hide in here forever. My nightmares are getting better, I promise.”

He lifted a skeptical brow, but he could see the determined set of her mouth, the stubbornness in her green eyes. She was tired of being afraid. Seeing her fight back against it just made him love her all the more. She was so brave, his princess. And he knew as much as he wanted to protect her, she was right. They couldn't keep hiding.

He lifted his hand and gently caressed the apple of her cheek. “Very well, princess. I'll talk to Mr. Smee about it in a bit. But first...” His eyes roved hungrily over her nearly naked form. “First, I have a favor to repay.” In one smooth move, Killian had her pinned under him as Emma squealed in delight.

It was music to his ears. Somehow, he knew everything was going to be alright.

* * *

“Fire a warning shot, Mr. Gilbert,” Killian ordered, as he collapsed his spy glass. “Let's see what these fellows are made of.”

It had taken them a few days, but they'd found some decent quarry at last. A nice fat merchant ship ripe for the plucking. She flew the Dark One's colors, the very monster Emma was running from. Yes, they'd take great pleasure in bringing in this particular treasure.

Emma stood by his side, looking up at him curiously. “What's that smile for?”

“How do you feel about twisting the Dark One's tale?”

“That's one of Rumplestiltskin's ships?” Killian nodded. For a moment, he thought she might balk, try to argue it was too dangerous, but instead she smiled grimly. “How soon do we board?”

Killian leaned down and kissed her soundly. He would swear he'd never loved her more than in that moment. His gorgeous pirate princess.

The cannon boomed; Killian followed the arc of the ball with his eyes as it sailed over the bow of the enemy ship. She didn't slow down or change course. So they were planning on being stubborn. It was just as well. For this particular prize, he didn't want it to be  _too_ easy. And his crew could use the challenge.

He ordered the sails trimmed to increase their speed, sending Emma off to ready the boarding party. He had every intention of going with her, unwilling to let her out of his sight once the fighting—if there was any—started. But first he had to get them into position. Rumplestiltskin's vessel was fast, but the  _Jolly Roger_ was faster; running down the enemy in minutes. He ordered the helmsman to hold the ship steady as they brought out the grappling hooks before hurrying down to the main deck where the boarding party was huddled behind a rather large pile of crates.

“Ready, love?” Killian asked, when Emma materialized out of the drifting smoke.

She nodded, unsheathing her sword. “Let's do it.”

The ship swayed as his crew pulled the two vessels side by side, the jolt almost knocking Emma off her feet. Killian caught her and righted her, cursing under his breath. After the boatswain gave the all clear, Killian led the boarding party out from behind their shelter and toward the enemy ship, Emma just behind him. He'd long since given up asking her to stay back or to stay behind. That had only lasted for about two minutes as she'd drawn her sword and disarmed Randolph in under a minute. The truth was Emma was twice the fighter of almost anyone else on his crew, save for Killian himself. He'd be a very poor captain indeed if he didn't utilize her. Her only concession was that she stay close to him. His anxiety for her safety would be less if he knew where she was at all times.

They had become a quite the team, Killian had to admit. Often they found themselves fighting back to back, protecting each other's weak sides. It was very exhilarating, a feeling that followed them all the way to their quarters after.

It quickly became apparent that whatever cargo the Dark One's vessel was carrying, it was important. Swords clashed as soon as Killian stepped on board. His crew poured over the side, shouts of excitement filling the air. Emma had been right, he mused as he kicked one of the officers off his feet. The men did need a bit of a work out.

Beside him, Emma ducked and side stepped, her opponent swinging wildly. She flashed Killian a grin as she spun on her heel and raised her sword, slashing the man across the chest. The man staggered, his eyes widening as he saw Emma's blonde tresses peeking out from under her hat. He wasn't the first to underestimate her because she was a woman. Killian had witnessed a dozen such before him make that same mistake. Killian smashed his foot down on the back of the man's knee, sending him sprawling to the deck. Emma kicked away the loose sword and nodded. That sailor wouldn't be getting up for a while.

“Let's see if we can find her captain,” Killian shouted above the din.

Emma followed him, covering his back, as they cut their way through the ship's crew. If Killian didn't know any better, he'd say that this was much more than a simple merchant vessel. The men were too professional, too coordinated. Could it be a naval vessel in disguise?

“Killian! Look out!”

The next instant his face was smashed against the hard wood of the deck, a warm body pressed against his back. He was dazed for a second, trying to figure out what had happened. But before he could speak, the weight was off him and he heard Emma screaming in fury. He rolled over just in time to see her looming over the ship's first mate, her boot pressed against his chest and her sword at his throat.

“Give me one good reason not to kill you.”

“But you're...you're...” The man's lip trembled, eyes watering as he tried to draw in air. But he was inhibited by Emma's heavy boot on his chest.

“A woman. Yeah, I got that.” The fighting seemed to die around them, as everyone's eyes turned to Emma.

Killian scrambled to his feet, looking around trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. That's when he saw the dagger sticking out of one of the masts right in front of where he'd been standing only moments before. Emma had seen it and shoved him to the ground. She'd very likely saved his life.

“You tried to kill my captain.”

“He's nothing but a filthy pirate.”

Emma scowled and flicked her sword; a trickle of blood blossomed on the man's throat. “So am I. And yet,  _you're_ the one flat on the deck.”

Killian pulled out the dagger and came to stand next to Emma. “Best answer the lady, mate. She doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

“I'm not telling you anything.”

“Which implies that there _is_ something to be told,” Killian said smugly. “Lucas, tie this coward up with the others. We'll find his captain and figure what's really going on here.”

“I'm not a coward.”

Killian added the weight of his boot to Emma's. “Any man who tries to stab another in the back rather than face him in a fight is a coward,” he spat. “Very bad form, you know.” He kicked the man just under the ribs and turned away from him in disgust. Killian curled his hand around Emma's bicep and tugged urgently. “Come on, lass.”

Reluctantly, Emma came away, still looking daggers at the man. Killian drew her off to a secluded corner and captured her lips in a needy kiss, trying to relieve a bit of tension. Emma melted into him, sword clattering to the ground as her hands curled into the lapels of his coat. Watching her fight always stirred his blood, made him hot for her, but the near miss and her violent reaction was unlike anything else he'd ever felt.

He pushed her up against the nearest surface, pressing his hard length against her flat stomach, kissing her breathless. “Emma...”

Emma mewled softly, desperately pressing her lips to his. “Thank the gods you're alright,” she said between kisses. Her fingers were in his hair as she pushed her hips back against his, a groan clawing it way out of him.

“I'm fine.” He kissed along the column of her throat, trying to find the will to reign himself in until they were back on board the _Jolly Roger_. “I want you so much right now, love.”

“I know.”

“But we can't.”

“Soon.” She pulled his lips back up to hers, kissing him soundly. “Soon, okay?”

Killian stole one final kiss before wrenching himself away. Who'd have thought a near death experience would be such a turn on? Emma stared at him with lust filled eyes tinged with relief, drinking him in, her lips kiss swollen and bruised. And he had never seen her more beautiful. “Gods, I love you.”

“And I love you, Killian.”

Someone cleared their throat loudly somewhere off to Killian's left. It took all of his control to not sink his hook into the neck of whomever was foolish enough to interrupt them. Emma flushed pink as Lucas appeared, his eyes firmly on the ground. “Um, Captain? We found him.”

Killian grumbled, but nodded. “Lead the way, Mr. Lucas.” The sooner they got this over with the sooner they could return to his ship.

The captain was tied up with his crew, hat missing, a nasty gash above his eye. Clearly, he'd put up a bit of a fight. Killian stepped right up to him, raising the man's head with his hook. “If you answer my questions honestly, I'll allow you and your crew to live. If not...there are a few sharks that would dearly love to have some supper. It would be bad form to refuse them such tasty treats.”

The captain, to his credit, didn't look afraid, merely resigned. If he knew what was good for him, he'd do whatever it took to ensure the safety of his crew. “We appear to me at your mercy, Captain,” the middle aged man replied.

“Actually, not my mercy,” Killian said. “You're at _her_ mercy.” Emma appeared over his shoulder, her sword back in its scabbard and carrying his cutlass in her hand. Killian noticed his crew watching Emma carefully, a new respect in their eyes as they regarded her. Most of them had seen her save his life, had witnessed her reaction. A fierce pride burned in him as he saw any doubt that Emma belonged with them vanish before his very eyes.

The captain swallowed, his eyes flicking from Emma's face to the cutlass in her hand. “Very well.”

Killian stepped back, taking his place at Emma's side. “This isn't a merchant vessel, is it?”

The captain shook his head. “No, we were sent by the Dark One on a diplomatic mission.”

“Where?” If it were anywhere near Emma's kingdom, he may have no choice but to kill the crew lest they give them away.

“Agarabah.”

“Never heard of it.”

“I have,” Emma piped up. “There's a powerful sorcerer there. Jafar. What does the Dark One want with Jafar?”

“That I don't know, miss.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. “You're lying.”

Killian grinned. Emma had told him some weeks ago about her little ability to ferret out lies. She'd used it on him rather successfully. It made playing cards with her hell though. She always knew when he was bluffing.

“I swear I'm not.” It sounded so feeble, even Killian didn't believe it.

Emma looked over at Lucas. “Search the hold. Look specifically for something that could trigger a trap door or hidden compartment. There's got to be a message or gift of some kind for Jafar, if Rumplestiltskin went to this much trouble to protect it.”

It was no surprise to Killian when Lucas obeyed her instantly, taking a couple of men with him. Killian could see the princess, the  _leader_ , shining through her pirate's facade. She was born for things like this. And as her kingdom's heir, she would have been trained in things like diplomacy. And it made sense. If Rumplestiltskin wanted something from this Jafar, he would need something to bargain with. The Dark One was notorious for his deals.

It didn't take long before Lucas returned. And he was not empty handed. He carried a long thin box gingerly out in front of him. “We found this, milady,” the young man said.

“What is it?” Emma demanded of the captain.

The older man shook his head. “I swear I don't know. All I was told was to deliver it to Jafar. That he would know what it was. And I wasn't to open it, on pain of death.” Emma nodded at Killian; the man was telling the truth.

“Aye, I can't imagine the Dark One being thrilled about his little trinket going missing,” Killian drawled. “Fortunately, we'll be relieving you of it. And anything else of value on this wreck.”

“But...but...”

“He'll kill you?” Killian asked. The captain nodded. “Aye, then I would humbly suggest you run. As far away from this realm as possible.” He'd give the man a fighting chance, but after the attempt on Killian's life, that was all he deserved. Killian ordered his men to gather everything of value and put it in the _Jolly Roger_ 's hold. He took the box with 

Rumplestiltskin's bribe under his arm, intending to store it safely himself. They were going to get rid of it at the earliest opportunity.

 

* * *

 

It was a good thing his crew was so well trained; no one was surprised when Killian took Emma's free hand and headed back to the ship, leaving them to collect whatever was worth taking. After her display with Rumplestiltskin's cowardly captain, he didn't think he could contain himself much longer. He needed her too badly.

Killian didn't even give her a chance to unbuckle her sword before he pushed her up against the door to their cabin, kissing her hungrily. Rumplestiltskin's trinket was thrown haphazardly on the desk, completely forgotten. “You are so bloody magnificent, Emma,” Killian breathed against her skin, his hand combing through her golden hair.

She tugged on his clothes, lips never leaving his. He could feel the lingering fear in her kiss; the close call affecting her just as much as it had him. She wasn't gentle, nipping at his lip, pulling roughly on his clothes. In no time at all she had him stripped bare, her hand wrapped around his cock with teasing strokes.

“You are wearing far too many clothes, love,” Killian said with a groan.

“So do something about it,” she challenged. Killian sucked in a harsh breath; she knew exactly what she was doing, the minx. There wasn't going to be anything slow or sweet about this; this was raw need, fueled by the knowledge of how close they had come to losing each other.

Killian roughly pulled her hand away, and pushed her flat against the door. His hand went to her waist, hastily yanking on her belt, allowing sword and scabbard to fall to the floor with a clang. “Hold still,” he growled, his hook slipping into the V of her shirt and vest and pulling. The sharp hook tore through the fabric easily, buttons flying everywhere. He did the same thing to her trousers, leaving her clothes in tatters. He knelt in front of her and yanked off her boots, allowing the ruined fabric to fall to the floor, leaving her gloriously naked before him.

Emma pulled him back to her by his necklace, fusing her lips to his in fierce kiss. He paused only long enough to reach under her thighs with his hand and hook, hauling her up, legs winding around his waist. He slipped into her with practiced ease, her warmth welcoming him home. His thrusts were hard and fast, taking her with little of the finesse that he usually did. His desire for her was too raw, too sharp for that. Emma seemed to relish it as much as he did, her legs tightening around his waist, forcing him deeper inside her.

“Harder,” she bit out, nails digging into his flesh. “Gods, fuck me harder, Killian.”

“ _Fuck.”_ She was impossible for him to resist; he gave into her demand, the door rattling with the force of his thrusts. In moments, she was fluttering around him, filthy curses tumbling from her lips. He followed her over the edge soon after, hips going still as he spilled himself inside her. They leaned heavily against the door, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. Emma unwound her shaking legs from his waist, immediately sagging against the door. Killian chuckled lightly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Let's get you to bed,” he murmured, pushing himself into a standing position and guiding her to the bed. They collapsed onto it gratefully, Emma curling into his side, hand over his heart. Now that their need had temporarily been satisfied, he could be gentle and loving, combing his good hand through her long tresses soothingly. They were quiet for a long time, hearts slowing back into their normal rhythm. For a while, Killian thought she'd fallen asleep, but then she broke the silence.

“I almost lost you today.”

“Aye.” There was no sense sugar coating it; he'd warned her that this life could be dangerous. He kissed her hair. “But you saved me.”

“I don't even know how. I just saw that man throwing the dagger and then...we were on the ground. I was so...angry and scared.”

“You were brilliant, love.” Killian remembered all too well the fury he'd felt when Randle had attacked her. “You were much kinder than he deserved.”

“So were you,” Emma pointed out. She raised her head, propping it in her hand. “They could go back to Rumplestiltskin and tell him about us.”

That was something he'd rather not think about. “I think fear of the Dark One will keep us safe for a while longer.”

“But Killian...”

“I _will_ keep you safe, Emma. I swear on my life.”

His heart clenched as he saw tears fill her eyes. “I trust you, I do. I just...don't know what I'd do if I lost you. I can't go back to my old life. Not now.”

Killian smiled up at her. “Oh, I don't know about that, love. I saw a bit of the princess peak out today. Ordering about my crew like you'd been doing it all your life.”

She flushed. “Sorry. If I overstepped...”

Killian shook his head. “Nonsense. We're a team, Emma. It may have taken them a while to catch on, but you're  _with_ me. Moreover, you showed them that you are worthy of their respect. You've worked hard, not shrinking away from anything. You should have seen them after you saved me. They saw what I've seen from the moment I laid eyes on you. A bloody amazing, magnificent woman who makes just a fine a pirate as she does a princess.”

“My mother didn't think I was a very good princess.”

Killian actually laughed. “I don't think that's quite true, love. You're certainly...unconventional. I'd wager not many princesses know how to handle that sword of yours. But I love that about you.”

“I noticed.”

Killian smirked. “Aye. I didn't know just how... _intoxicating_ that could be until you.” He ran his hand over her arm. “Makes you even more of a siren, darling.” There was just something about her that called to him, like he'd only been half alive until he met her. Whatever it was, he never wanted it to end.

“Don't sirens lure sailors to their deaths?”

“Do you think that's what you're doing?” Killian leaned up and kissed her. “On the contrary, love. Do you remember what you said to me right after I found you? That you felt like you were alive for the first time?” She nodded. “That's exactly how I feel with you. I was so...lost after Liam passed. I wanted to make the king who'd taken him from me pay. I fooled myself into thinking that would ease my pain, but it never really did. But I didn't realize that until I met you.”

Emma was everything he'd thought he'd never have again. He needed her so much it frightened him. He could see a life with her, one beyond his ship and everything that came with it. “Marry me, Emma.”

Emma stared down at him with huge eyes. “What did you say?”

He couldn't blame her for her disbelief; he was just as shocked as the words fell from his lips. But he also knew they were  _right_ . “Marry me. I have nothing to offer you but a life of danger and adventure, but I love you. And I will only ever love you. Everything I have is yours.”

He could have sworn the sun rose and fell a hundred times while he waited for her answer. He couldn't breathe. A tear slipped down her cheek and braced himself for the pain, the rejection.  _Fool_ .  _How could you be so bloody stupid?_

“Yes.”

* * *

They stood under the bright moonlight; Emma's silver dress shimmering like the water around them. Killian stood across from her, dressed in the uniform he hadn't worn in years. The only witness was the poor crewman who had drawn night duty at the helm, but that didn't matter. They didn't need anyone to confirm how they felt about one another.

“Are you sure this is legal?” Emma asked quietly.

“Love, I'm the captain of this ship and as such I can marry whomever I wish. If Mr. Smee decided he wanted to marry Harrison, then I could perform the ceremony. Don't see why it would be different for us.”

She looked out at the open sea, wistfully. Killian cupped her cheek in his hand. “If you're having second thoughts...”

“No, no. It's not that. I just...I miss my parents. I always thought they'd be here for this.”

Killian's heart ached for her. Sometimes he forgot just what she'd given up to be with him. She'd had a home, a loving family. And yet, she'd left all that for  _him_ . He truly did not deserve her and yet she'd chosen him.

“Maybe someday they will be.” If she ever wanted to see them again, he'd do whatever it took to make it so.

Emma gave him a small smile. “You know, not many people know that my parents actually  _two_ weddings. One just before my grandmother passed away and another for the kingdom after they defeated the Evil Queen.”

Killian felt himself smile, catching on to her meaning. “Maybe such things run in the family, love.” He couldn't see how King David and Queen Snow would countenance such a marriage—Killian was still a pirate after all with a death sentence in their kingdom—but it didn't hurt to hope. Maybe fate would be on their side.

“Maybe they do.” She took his hand and hook in each of her hands. “Okay, I'm ready.”

Killian squeezed her hand and took a deep breath. Then he recited the familiar words he'd learned at his kingdom's naval academy so many years ago, his voice getting stronger as he spoke. It was short. Quiet, with little more than the waves for company. After he slipped his mother's ring onto her finger, Killian couldn't wait any longer, hauling her into his arms and kissing her. Emma let out a euphoric cry as he spun her around, happiness like he'd never felt filling his soul.

Killian put her down, a tear slipping down his cheek. “As captain of the  _Jolly Roger_ , I now pronounce us husband and wife.”

Emma smiled brilliantly up at him. “Aren't you going to kiss the bride?”

“Aye.” He bent down and kissed her again before abruptly picking her up and moving toward their quarters. “And a lot more besides, Mrs. Jones.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

Fall was coming. She could tell in the slightly cooler mornings, the slightly stiffer winds. It had been over three months since she left home.

 

Emma tore her eyes away from the first rays of light on the horizon and looked down at her left hand. There lay the symbol of just how much her life had changed since that fateful day in the Great Hall. No longer was Emma simply a princess, heir to her mother's throne. No, the woman she was now was a _wife_ and a pirate. Ironic that this had all begun due to a marriage, marriage she hadn't wanted or asked for. It wasn't marriage or the idea of settling down that she had run from; it was the fact that the _choice_ had been taken away from her. Emma was sure her parents had what they felt were good reasons, but they weren't good enough for Emma. 

So yes, ironic that in her desperation to avoid marriage, she'd wound up married anyway. But this time, it was  _her_ choice and she really couldn't have been happier with her decision. Her parents, if they ever found out, would surely be furious, but she couldn't help that. It was Killian that she loved.

“Milady?”

Emma turned and saw Smee standing there with a steaming cup in his hand. He looked a bit uncomfortable, as he was unsure how he would be received. Emma couldn't blame him; the abrupt change in her relationship with Killian had taken quite a few of his crew by surprise. Not that she'd seen much of them in the days following the moonlight ceremony. They'd largely kept to their cabin; this was the first time Emma had emerged alone in a week. Killian was still asleep; he looked so peaceful and happy, she didn't have the will to wake him.

“Yes, Mr. Smee?”

“Harrison thought you'd like a spot of tea, missus. It's still a bit chilly this morn.”

Emma gave him a small smile. It was the first time anyone other than Killian had referred to her by her new title. “Tell him that was very thoughtful,” she said, accepting the cup. She took a small sip; it was still a bit too hot for her taste. “Might have to let it cool a bit, but thank you.”

Smee fidgeted, red knit cap in his hand. Emma leaned back against the rail, wind blowing her hair. “Was there something else you wanted?”

“Well...the men took up a small collection, you see. For you and the captain. We're pirates, milady and don't have much, but the captain...he's been good to us and most of us are happy to see him happy. There have been some dark times on this ship, I can tell you.” Smee paused and took a deep breath. “I know it's been hard for you and there was some...unpleasantness. I admit I was a might unsure when you came aboard. But I was wrong.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch. “We'd like you to accept this as our gift for the next time we reach port.”

Emma was touched by his little speech. She wondered of he'd practiced it. She took the pouch and slipped it into the pocket of her trousers. “Thank you, Mr. Smee. We'll make good use of it, I'm sure.” Smee nodded and started to turn, but Emma called him back. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course, missus.”

“How did Killian lose his hand?” She'd been curious ever since she met him, but she'd never gotten up the courage to ask. It didn't _matter_ , not really, but she assumed it was a sore spot so she left well enough alone.

“For that, milady, I think we best sit down.” They went over to the capstan and sat; Emma cradling the warm cup in her hands. Smee launched into the tale; an epic duel between pirate captains begun when the infamous Blackbeard had tried to steal the _Jolly Roger_ right out from under Killian's nose. It was a duel to the death. All appeared lost when Blackbeard caught Killian's wrist in some loose rigging and chopped the hand clean off. But no one knew the _Jolly_ better than her captain and with his last remaining strength distracted Blackbeard with a loose floorboard and ran him through with his sword.

“It was touch and go for a while, milady,” Smee said sadly. “I thought the captain would die at least a dozen times. We got him to down to the galley where Harrison cauterized the wound, but he'd lost so much blood. Then he developed a fever. But he fought it. So determined to live, you see. And not long after he'd lost his brother...that was before my time.”

“Where did he get the hook from?” Emma couldn't imagine the kind of agony Killian must have felt; she thought about the stump, the bumps and ridges where his hand should have been. To survive something like that...her heart ached for him.

“It was the thing Blackbeard used to tangle the captain in the rigging. After he got better, the captain thought it would be fitting.”

“I can see why. Thank you for telling me.” Smee gave her an awkward kind of bow and departed, leaving Emma with her thoughts and her tea. She watched the sun come up as she slowly drank, just thinking. Knowing now what he'd been through, it didn't make her love him any less or any differently. If anything, it showed just how suited to her he truly was. His stubborn refusal to die, to hold on what was his, was something they shared. How often did her mother bemoan her stubbornness? In fact, Snow White was probably doing that right now and the thought made Emma smile. Emma had left the only home she'd ever known, but she'd found a new one, one just as precious. All because of the handsome, stubborn pirate who made her his wife.

* * *

Emma dropped off her cup at the galley, thanking Harrison in person for the tea. As she walked through the ship, she saw what Killian had been telling her. The men did look at her differently now. She was no longer an interloper. She was one of them. A fit mate for their captain. The princess who'd become a pirate for love.

Killian was awake when she returned to their cabin. When she caught sight of what he was doing, Emma shut the door to their cabin abruptly, hoping no one had seen. Heat crept up her neck as she turned back around, her eyes drawn to inevitably to his crotch where his hand was pumping slowly up and down his cock.

“I woke up and you weren't here,” he complained without preamble. “That's bad form, lass.”

Emma swallowed, any coherent thoughts flying from her head. “I was...up on deck. It was early still,” she said weakly.

“Emphasis on _was_ , my love. I missed you.”

“I can see that.” Emma took off her boots and padded over to the bunk, where she sat down on the edge. “Don't feel like you have to stop on my account. You seem to be getting along just as well without me.” She'd only seen him do this in passing, usually right before he took her. But she was fascinated.

Killian raised a brow at her, his hand never stopping. “We both know my hand is a poor substitute for  _you_ , wife, but if you wish it...”

“Do you have a better idea?” She was trying to hide just how arousing it was to watch him touch himself, but judging by the smirk on his face, she was failing.

“You know I do, love.” His eyes raked over her, hungrily. “But it involves you wearing far less clothing.”

“Are you ordering me to strip, Captain?” she asked, in her best seductive voice.

Killian let out a shaky breath, her words having the intended affect. “Gods, yes.”

Emma stood, moving to the middle of the room, far enough away that he couldn't touch, just watch. She'd only done this a few times, but Killian seemed to love it. Slowly, she pulled the tunic over her head, her back to him. She rolled her hips as she shook out her long hair, pulling it front of her so that it covered her chest. Then she turned around and slowly unbuttoned her trousers, shimmying them off her hips until all she wore were her red silk underwear. She'd gotten them in one of the shops at their last port; Killian hadn't seen them yet.

“Fuck,” he breathed, as she moved a bit closer. “You've been very naughty, princess.”

“How?”

“By concealing those knickers under those formless trousers.” Killian swung his legs over the side of the bunk, his cock bobbing against his stomach. “I think I'll have to punish you, lass.”

Emma raised a credulous brow as she stepped boldly between his legs and bent over so that her lips were next to his ear. “And just how are you gonna do that?”

Killian ran his hand over the curve of her spine, his lips moving along her jaw. “Like this,” he whispered, his hand slipping underneath the silk and tearing it away from her body with a satisfying rip. Then he maneuvered her across his lap so that her ass was in the air. Emma felt his hand move over the curve of her ass reverently and suddenly it clicked into place what he was going to do to her. She bit her lip, remembering how amazing it had felt before and wishing then that he hadn't stopped.

“I'm going to spank you, Emma. Do you understand?”

Emma nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.”

The first blow was lighter than she expected, the pain only slight. She moaned as pleasure blossomed in its wake. She rocked her hips encouragingly; he didn't need to be careful with her. She wasn't going to break.

He seemed to get her silent message as the next blow was much sharper and in a completely different spot. She didn't understand how something like this could feel so good, but she was damned if she cared. Another moan tore from her throat as he spanked her again, the pleasure going straight to her aching core.

“Fuck, Emma,” Killian said hoarsely. “You love this, don't you?” Smack. “Such a dirty, naughty princess.” Smack. His fingers slid down between her legs, brushing her folds. “Gods, you are fucking _soaked_. You _are_ a wanton thing.” Emma mewled in protest when he took his hand away from her entrance. “Oh no, love. Not yet. Not until this arse is good and pink for me.” His hand came down again and again, alternately spanking and soothing, until Emma was writhing helplessly in his lap. Her eyes watered from the sting, but gods help her, it felt _so_ incredible. She was wound so, so tightly; she was certain the barest touch would set her off into an amazing orgasm.

“That's it, love,” Killian soothed, brushing his hand over her now warm skin. He bent down and kissed the spot between her shoulder blades. “Beautiful.”

Killian picked her up and put her on the bed, climbing up behind her. She wondered what he was doing until he guided her, hand on her hip. “Arse up, Emma. I want to see it while I'm fucking you.” She started to get on all fours, but he pressed down on her back with his stump. “Arse up, head down.” Emma buried her head in her arms, a shiver racing down her spine. She felt Killian behind her, his cock brushing her soaked skin. His stump lay on the small of her back as he lined himself up and sank deep inside her easily, setting her off.

Emma cried out, her walls clamping around him, knocking the breath out of her.  _“Fuck_ ,” Killian grunted. He didn't move, just stayed deep inside her until her orgasm passed. She could feel him throbbing inside her, her fluttering walls making everything more intense. “Gods, you are so bloody tight like this, Emma.” He was straining, trying to hold back until she could take it, but she could feel him shaking.

“Just fuck me, Killian,” she pleaded. Even after her high, she needed more, needed him _fuck_ her. “Please.”

Killian muttered a low curse, finally pulling back, his thick cock dragging along her fluttering walls, before slamming back in. His hips hit the still stinging flesh of her ass, making her whimper; the pain and pleasure almost overwhelming. He wasn't gentle, nor did she expect him to be. He always got a little wild and uncontrolled whenever they did something new. And she loved it, loved exploring with him, wanting to feel  _everything_ . There was time for loving and gentle later.

Killian changed the angle of his hips; Emma let out a strangled cry when he hit the spot that made her see stars. “Oh gods,  _there_ ,” she cried, fingers tightening in the sheet. She could feel another peak building; her stomach muscles clenching.

His fingers squeezed her hip; there'd be bruises when they were done. He slammed into her again and again, each sharp thrust keeping her teetering on the fine edge between pleasure and pain. He kept up a steady stream of praise, telling her how good she felt, how perfect she was for him. His hips started stuttering, losing his rhythm. He was close, but trying to get her there again.

“One more, love,” Killian bit out. “Just one more time for me. Come on.”

He reached around, rubbing her clit furiously until she fell apart with a hoarse shout. It was so intense she nearly blacked out, her consciousness hanging on by the barest of threads. Killian thrust twice more before pulsing deep inside her as her walls milked him dry, her name falling from his lips like a prayer.

They fell over in an unceremonious heap as Killian slipped out of her, making her whimper in protest. He gathered her against his chest, pressing kisses to her neck and shoulder. “Bloody hell, you're amazing,” he whispered against her skin.

Emma hummed in contentment, still too short of breath to speak. Her whole body tingled and ached; she was exhausted despite not having been awake that long.

Killian seemed sense it, kissing her hair. “Sleep now, love. I've got you.”

* * *

Emma woke up to a growling stomach and an empty bed. She rolled over, the blanket that covered her slipping down to her waist. Killian sat at his desk with a plate of food, examining the package they had stolen from Rumplestiltskin's ship.

“Killian?”

He groaned softly when he looked at her. “As happy as I am that you're awake, you might want to put on a shirt, princess. You are far too tempting.”

“Can't keep your hand to yourself, husband?” she teased, with a knowing grin. In truth, she felt a bit too achy and used to go another round, at least for a little while. She fished around for a shirt and found one of his, the black linen covering her reasonably well.

“Hmm, I like the sound of that.”

“What?”

“Husband. Although the other is good too.”

She got out of bed, wincing only a little. Killian wrapped his left arm around her waist as she joined him at the desk. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

Emma combed her fingers through his silky dark hair. “No, you didn't hurt me. It was just...intense.”

“I'll say. The things you do to me, love...” He captured one of her hands, kissing the palm. “I've never wanted anyone the way I always want you.”

Emma flushed, even after all this time the things he said could still get to her. “Give me some time to recover and you can have me all over again.”

“Don't think I'll ever get tired of that,” he replied with a sly grin, handing her a stem of grapes that Smee had procured at their last stop.

Emma popped a couple into her mouth, gingerly sitting in his lap. “I certainly hope not. You married me after all. That's usually a forever kind of thing.”

“Good thing I'm a forever kind of bloke then.” He leaned down and kissed her. “I love you so much, Emma.”

She stared into those too blue eyes of his, wondering again how they'd managed to find each other. They shouldn't ever have met, coming from completely different worlds. But they did, almost as if they were always meant to. She dropped her grapes and cupped his face in her hands. “I _love_ you, Killian. And I always will.” She sealed her declaration with a kiss, the best way she knew to express everything that she felt for him.

She pulled back, Killian combing his fingers through her hair. “What did I do to get you?” he asked in awe.

“I've been wondering the same thing.”

Killian scoffed. “You deserve so much more than a broken down pirate, my love.”

Emma thought about her conversation with Smee earlier, about Killian's fight to stay _alive_ after being horribly maimed. She ran her hand over his forearm, fingers brushing over his stump. “Do you know what I thought the first time I saw you?” Killian shook his head. “That it would be a crime for the world to lose a man as handsome as you. I've never cared about this.” She trapped his blunted wrist. “Never. You survived something horrible and found me. You make me happy and that's all I've ever wanted. Pirate or not.”

“That's all I want, Emma. To make you happy.”

“You already do. And now you can forever.” No matter what happened, she would never regret her decision to make her life with him.

Killian kissed her again, pulling back with a smirk. “You thought I was handsome? Somehow I don't think that's _all_ you were thinking, princess.”

Emma flushed. “Well, I _did_ invite you into my bed. What did you think?”

“That you, my dear, were a princess after my own heart.”

“I tried not to think about you. I even flirted with the stable boy. But all I wanted was you.”

Killian scowled. “You'll not be flirting with _anyone_ else ever again.”

Emma laughed. “Why would I do that, when I have you?”

“Too right, lass.” He handed her the grapes back. “You should eat, love. We'll be getting to port soon.”

Emma frowned. “How long was I asleep?” She hadn't thought they'd be making a port call for another month, at least.

“Only for a couple of hours. You were out like a light though.” Killian grinned; she could _feel_ the pride in his skills rolling off him in waves. He loved wringing as much pleasure from her body as he possibly could, leaving her deeply sated and exhausted. “But we've lingered with this little trinket long enough.” He nodded toward the box they found on the Dark One's ship.

“Do you know what it is?” She munched on the grapes, looking over at the mysterious box.

Killian shook his head. “Not a bloody clue. Probably magical though, knowing that demon's ways. Fortunately, I know just the person to give us a good price for it and relieve us of the bother of toting it.”

“Do this kind of thing often?” Emma teased. She reached over to the table for some more grapes, popping a couple into Killian's mouth.

He chuckled. “A little. Not everything we steal is gold, you know. And it's good to have friends in less than savory places.” He leaned forward and stole another grape from her fingers. “But this place is a bit closer to your kingdom than I would like. As long as we're careful, you should be fine. I'll be with you and we'll only be there overnight.”

Emma searched his eyes, but all she saw was love and confidence. If he believed that they would be safe, then she trusted him. And even if they got into trouble, she was confident in their ability to get out of it. “Okay.” Then she smiled. “I think we're due for an adventure.”

“Lass, we've been on a non stop adventure since the day we met.”

* * *

The village where the _Jolly Roger_ docked didn't appear to be anything special. Just a tiny village with no name that seemed to attract shady characters. Emma noticed at least three separate pick pockets on their way to the tavern. But Killian just kept walking, his right arm firmly around Emma's waist.

“Where are we going?”

“The Star Fall. I'm friends with the proprietor, Old Ed. You'll like him, lass. We'll stay there until Mr. Smee returns with Badger.”

“And this Badger is the man who's going to help us get rid of...our package?” She didn't think it wise to be using the words “Rumplestiltskin” or “Dark One” out in the open like this. No one here knew her and Killian hadn't been here since before he found her. She was dressed in a simple everyday dress, blue to match Killian's eyes. But she didn't look like a princess, which was the point.

“Aye. Should be a fairly straightforward exchange. If he's feeling generous, that is.”

“Trouble?”

Killian laughed. “Let's just say Badger's not overly fond of the truth. Or in honorable dealings. But we have a secret weapon on our side now, love.”

“What's that?”

“Why you, of course.” He kissed her temple affectionately. “No, I'm quite certain the old boy's never met anyone quite like _you._ ”

Emma smiled up at him, pleased with the unexpected compliment. She could hear the pride in his voice, pride in _her_ , that he got to be the one who got to show her off when he could have had anyone. The last person who'd looked at her like that was her father. And suddenly she missed him so much, her chest ached.

“What's the matter, lass?”

Emma shook her head. “It's nothing.”

“It's not nothing, but we'll talk about it later, yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Later.” Maybe talking about her parents would make her not quite miss them so much. Since her marriage, she'd been thinking about them more and more, wondering how they were doing. She'd thought about sending them a message hundreds of times, just to let them know she was alright and happy and not to worry, but she never did.

Killian squeezed her waist reassuringly; she was grateful for his constancy. There was no way she'd have been able to do this without him.

They entered the tavern, a group of the _Jolly's_ crew following in their wake. The lot of them were treated like old friends from the moment they stepped inside. Emma felt her gloomy mood lifting almost instantly. Killian marched them up to the bar where the oldest man Emma had ever seen stood, cleaning a glass.

“A round of your best for me and the lads,” Killian said, grinning at his friend.

The man glanced at Emma, then eyed Killian suspiciously. “You never come in here with a lass, Jones. Leaving with one is more your style.”

“Not anymore, I'm afraid. Ed, I'd like you to meet my wife, Emma. Emma, this Old Ed. Don't let him scare you; unlike me, he's all talk.”

Ed's wizened face turned to Emma. “Wife, is it? Can't say I've ever heard of a pirate with a wife.” He put down his glass. “But you're a pretty thing, aren't you? Always had an eye for the pretty ones, this one,” he continued, jerking his thumb toward Killian. “You lose a bet or something, lass?”

Emma laughed. She couldn't help it. “Believe it or not, I fell in love.”

It was Ed's turn to laugh. “That's what they all say, missus.” He peaked over the counter, his eyes lighting on the ring on Emma's finger. “Well, I'll be damned.” Ed looked back at Killian. “Your arse is in the fryer now, boy. I hope you know what you're doing.”

“Don't I always?”

“Well, you haven't let me down yet. What'll it be, lass? I think this deserves a celebratory drink!”

There was definitely a party atmosphere in the tavern as they drank and waited for Smee to return with their guest. Someone found a deck of cards and some dice; they played round after round, Emma perched in Killian's lap using her lie detecting skills to help him win. He soon had a nice sized pile of coins sitting in front of him.

“Well done, love,” he whispered in her ear as another poor wretch left the table in disgust. “I do believe we make quite the team.”

“I do believe you're right.” She was having so much fun; it was annoying to admit she had get up and find a chamber pot...somewhere. “Think you can handle a round without me?”

“Don't take too long. It's back behind the bar, love.” Emma rolled her eyes, of course he knew exactly where she was going. There were times she swore he knew her body better than she did. “Be right back,” she said, kissing him soundly.

She got up and wound her way through the other patrons to the makeshift water closet behind the bar. It was a bit dirty and there were a few spiders, but Emma had spent the last couple of months on a pirate ship. This was nothing. She hiked up her skirts, did what she came to do, then readjusted everything to head back into the tavern. She stopped by the bar on her way back for another round of ale, carrying two heavy pewter mugs in each hand.

Then nearly dropped them both when she saw the leggy black haired woman trying to worm her way into Killian's lap.

A flash of jealousy flared in her stomach as she narrowed her eyes and squared her shoulders. Killian was _hers_. Emma marched over, setting the mugs down in front of her clearly uncomfortable husband. He smiled up at her gratefully. “Ah, love, there you are. I was wondering what was taking you so long.”

“Who are you?” the black haired woman asked scornfully.

Killian opened his mouth, but Emma cut him off. “I'm Emma. His _wife.”_

“Wife?”

“Aye, lass.” Killian stood, putting his hand and hook on either side of Emma's hips as he stood behind her. “And we're very happy, aren't we, my love?”

“Ecstatic, really.” She looked at him over her shoulder, a too sweet smile on her lips. They were gonna have a talk about this very, very soon. “But it was nice to meet you...”

“Diana.”

“Diana. I hope we weren't keeping you...”

Diana flushed, embarrassed. People were beginning to stare at the three of them. “No, I was just leaving. Captain. Mrs. Jones.” She curtsied and left in a hurry.

“Well, that was unpleasant,” Killian said as soon as the woman was out of earshot.

Emma turned around. “Who was she?” Judging from the way she'd been hanging all over Killian, there was some history there.

Killian sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Not here, lass.” He grabbed one of the mugs Emma had brought, and downed it one go. Then he threw some of his winnings back onto the table, before guiding Emma outside, his hand on the small of her back. As soon as they were outside, he held out his arm and Emma took it, waiting for him to speak.

“Do you remember me telling you that I tried to forget you? After we missed each other at the gate?” They walked slowly down the lane, the full moon just starting to wane in the sky.

“Yeah...oh. _Oh._ ” It dawned on her in a rush. That was the woman he'd...but then didn't. Because he couldn't forget _Emma_. No wonder the raven haired beauty thought there could be a repeat performance, hopefully with a better outcome. “She was pretty.”

Killian huffed derisively. “A poor substitute for you, love. I was such a bloody fool.”

“You had no way of knowing,” Emma said firmly. She didn't like even _thinking_ about Killian with anyone else, but she wasn't naive. She knew there had been women before her. Probably quite a few. Killian was a very attractive man, after all. And he certainly wasn't a monk. “I couldn't even get a message to you; I hardly had a moment alone.” Her tone grew bitter. All that lost time. “And like you said, nothing actually happened.”

Killian raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “You are far too charitable, Emma.”

Emma felt a thrum of desire race down her spine at his affectionate gesture. She smirked up at him. “I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me,” she said suggestively.

Killian graced her with her favorite grin. “Indeed I shall, princess.”

* * *

Emma woke up the next morning in an all too familiar position. Killian's warm body pressed up against her back, his arm curled possessively around her waist. But they weren't in their quarters. Smee had found them and informed them that Badger was “delayed,” so they opted to stay at the small inn, savoring the comfort a large cushy bed rather than their small cramped bunk. However, it didn't matter where they were, they still managed to stay close even in their sleep, unwilling to stray too far from each other's warmth. Emma was fairly certain she'd never sleep well alone again; she was too used to Killian's body next to hers.

She knew the instant he woke as he nuzzled his nose into her hair. “Morning, wife.”

Her heart gave a stupid little flutter, the way it always did when he used her new title. “Sleep well, Captain?”

His lips brushed the back of her neck. “Very well.” He stretched out behind her, the bed creaking under them. He'd spent a good part of the night “making it up to her” just as he'd promised, until the were both thoroughly satisfied. It was no surprise that they both managed to sleep like the dead, even without the gentle rocking of the ship to soothe them.

Emma stretched out too, working out the kinks in her sore muscles. “That's better.”

“Sore?” Killian ran his hand lightly down over her arm until it rested on her hip.

“Only a little,” she said truthfully.

“I think sometimes I'm a bit too rough with you, lass.” He kissed her shoulder gently, his pretty blue eyes locking with her green ones.

“Maybe I like it that way.”

“Emma...”

She caught his cheek in her hand. “You don't have to change who you are for me. I'm not going to break and I'm glad you don't treat me like I will. I married a pirate. I knew what I was getting into.” And she knew first hand that he could be sweet and gentle. But all too often their passion got away from them and they had the marks to prove it. _Both_ of them. Emma always gave as good as she got, as evidenced by the rather large bruise on his neck.

“Gods, I love you.” Killian leaned down and kissed her, slowly, sweetly. Emma melted into it, her tongue sliding out, coaxing his mouth open, deepening it after a few moments. Her hand carded through his dark hair, holding him to her as his weight settled over her. She loved feeling his body pressing her into the mattress, hard versus soft, angles versus curves. He was so gorgeous, so _male_ ; it called to something deep within her, some ancient primal urge that she was helpless to resist.

Emma explored the planes of his chest and stomach as he continued to kiss her, her hands wandering over the soft dark hair, feeling his muscles ripple and flex under her touch. Killian groaned softly, nipping at her bottom lip. “Emma...”

Her hand wandered lower to where his length pressed into her stomach. “It's okay,” she said quietly. “I want you.” She couldn't see a day where she _wouldn't_ want him. It had been that way since she first saw him in the Great Hall.

“Soon, love.” He kissed her again, his earlier guilt melting away as reawakened passion took hold. Impatiently, he shoved the blanket that covered them down, his eyes raking over her naked form. “You are so beautiful.” As often as he said it, she never got tired of hearing it. Many people had said those exact words to her over the years, but Killian was the only one who _meant_ them. Heat pooled in her belly and she squirmed a bit under his intense scrutiny.

“Always so impatient.” Killian chuckled, low and rich, leaning down to kiss her collar. His lips never left her skin as he moved lower, scruff scratching, teeth scraping, driving her crazy. His tongue circled the pebbled skin of her nipple, but he left the hardened peak unattended. Emma whined in complaint; gods, she needed him to _touch_ her, to give her some relief from the slowly building tension between her legs.

“Killian...”

“Hmm?”

“You're teasing.”

“Aye. If you don't like it, princess, perhaps you should do something about it.” He smirked down at her and went back to his work, repeating his insufficient attention to her other breast.

Almost without her being aware of it, Emma's hand drifted down her stomach, over her soft curls at the apex of her thighs. Her legs fell open as her fingers dipped in against her wetness, a moan tumbling from her lips. It wasn't _exactly_ what she wanted, but it was enough to ease the almost unbearable tension. Killian's eyes followed her hand and he grinned approvingly. “That's it, Emma. Go ahead. Touch yourself for me.”

Emma moaned softly; the idea that he wanted to watch her only increasing her lust. Her hips rolled instinctively as she remembered those early explorations she'd made long before she'd met him. But she knew what she was doing now, knew how she liked to be touched. Emma dragged her fingers through her folds, gathering wetness and rubbing them over her throbbing clit. She hissed in pleasure, savoring the sensation.

“Bloody hell,” Killian murmured, his own hand starting to drift down to his own arousal. “Don't stop, love.”

Emma heeded his soft command, teasing her clit faster. Sweat broke out on her brow, as good as it felt, it wasn't _enough_. Her hand slid back down to her entrance and she slipped two fingers inside, just as Killian had done so many times. That was better, as she moved them in and out, a bit inexpertly, soft whimpers and moans falling from her lips.

“Make yourself come for me, Emma,” Killian demanded in a hoarse whisper. “I want to see you fall apart.”

Hearing him like that, so desperate and needy and demanding all at once...it felt like liquid fire racing through her veins. Emma moved her hand, pumping her fingers inside as far as she could while her other hand twisted her aching nipple. The dual stimulation had her falling over the edge in moments, her hips bucking up off the bed as she rode it out, her legs shaking. When she stilled, she pulled her hand away, Killian instantly bringing her fingers to his lips, sucking them clean.

“You are so gorgeous when you come, sweetheart,” he mumbled, kissing her palm.

But Emma was already reaching for him; she needed to feel him inside her, his cock being the only thing that could truly satisfy her. “Please, Killian,” she said, fingers touching his silky smooth hardness. “I need _you_.”

“Bloody insatiable siren.” He leaned down and kissed her passionately, stealing the little breath she still had. He rolled her onto her side and lifted one of her legs to his shoulder as he straddled the other. His hand slipped between them and guided his cock to her entrance, sliding into her hot quivering sheath. “Fuck,” he gasped, his head falling against her leg. “Such a sweet cunt, Emma. Best I've ever had. Always so hot and tight for me.” He kissed her calf and started moving, her breathy needy moans driving him wild, taking her with deep hard thrusts.

“Oh gods, _yes_ ,” Emma gasped, nails scratching at his thighs. “More.”

Killian groaned as he looked down at her with lust filled eyes. “Let me hear you, love. Gods, feels so good.”

Emma was still a bit shy when it came to using the filthy, arousing language that Killian used regularly. But she was getting more confident all the time. “So deep like this, Killian... _fuck_. Don't stop.” She bit her lip at a particularly vicious thrust, feeling him bottom out inside her, making her whole body shudder in pleasure.

“You love when I fill you up, don't you, princess? Love having my cock so deep inside you. Such a perfect fit.” He kissed her leg again, teeth scraping over her skin, leaving another mark. “Mine. Say it, Emma.”

“Yours.” The word fell from her lips effortlessly. Because she _was_ his; heart, body, soul...it all belonged to him. It always had, she just hadn't known it. And just as surely, he was hers.

“Touch yourself, love. Need to feel you. So bloody close.”

Emma's hand flew to her clit, middle finger rubbing the swollen bundle vigorously. Killian may think he wasn't being a gentleman, or he was too rough, but he _always_ made sure her pleasure came before his. It was simply how he was, even lost in the throes of passion and lust. She knew it was more than most women got, with less attentive lovers who just took their pleasure with little regard for their partner.

Her breathing hitched as she felt the familiar tightening at the apex of her thighs. It coiled tighter and tighter until it burst like a dam, wave after wave of white hot pleasure engulfing her as she cried out incoherently. Killian grunted, hips still driving into her, drawing it out until his own release overwhelmed him, coming inside her with one final deep thrust.

Emma was still catching her breath as Killian lowered her leg and collapsed behind her. She could feel his heart hammering against his ribs as he pulled her against his chest with his good hand. Her own heart gradually slowed as they basked quietly in the afterglow. She ached in all the right places and felt thoroughly sated. Killian drew random patterns on the skin of her stomach, but remained quiet. It was unusual enough that finally Emma broke the silence.

“What are you thinking about?”

Killian sighed heavily. “How much Liam would have liked you. I wish he was still here to meet you.”

Emma rolled over in his arms; she could see plainly the grief he still felt, the sadness. It made her heart hurt. “What was he like?” she asked softly.

Killian smiled sadly, brushing some hair away from her face. “He was older than me, by a good eight years. I was my parents' unexpected child. But Liam was the darling, the good boy. I idolized him. He was good at everything, led the gang of boys in our village. But he looked after me, especially after our mother died.” Killian paused, gathering his thoughts. Emma took his hand in hers and squeezed gently. She couldn't imagine how difficult this was for him. But it meant the world to her that he was _trying_. “I was only small, three maybe? I can't remember. All I know was she was here one day and gone the next.”

A tear slipped down his cheek and Emma could see the little boy who didn't understand why his mother wasn't coming home in his eyes. She swallowed against the lump that was forming in her throat. It was so unfair. “Killian...you don't have to...”

He shook his head. “No, it's alright, love. I just haven't...in quite a long time. I want you to know.” He gently kissed her hand and went back to his story. “Things were never quite the same after that. Papa was around less; Liam looked after me. Until he was old enough to join the navy. He was worried about what would happen to me, but Papa insisted. When Liam left, Papa promised we'd have our own adventure; travel the realms. We got as far as a merchant ship bound for...Arendell, I think it was. But I fell asleep and when I woke up he was gone. Turned out he was a fugitive.”

“He _abandoned_ you?”

“Aye.”

“Oh, Killian. I am _so_ sorry. No one should grow up like that. What happened?” Obviously, he was here in front of her, an ex naval officer, so he'd managed...somehow.

“I stayed in that village. Begging for scraps, anything I could get. It was...awhile, but eventually Liam found me. A lad about twelve, dirty, hungry, wearing rags. He took me in, convinced his captain to let me on board his ship as a cabin boy until I was old enough for a commission of my own.”

“How old were you?”

Killian's brow creased, thinking. “Fifteen, I think, when I entered the naval academy. I was there for three years. By the time I finished, Liam was captain of the _Jewel_. You know the rest.”

While she was safe in her parents' castle, growing up loved and coddled, Killian had been fighting to _survive_ , for simple things like food and clothing and a roof over his head. Their backgrounds couldn't be more different, but she felt like she understood him. She always had. She may have been loved and looked after, but she never felt like she _belonged_ , like that was where she was supposed to be. It didn't make sense, but it was how she felt. She'd just gotten good at hiding it. But here with Killian she'd found that place where she just _fit_. She could just be _Emma._

Emma leaned forward and kissed him gently, hoping that in some small way she could bring him some comfort. Killian didn't let her get far, bringing his hand up into her hair, wrapping the strands around his questing fingers. He rubbed his nose against hers, smiling softly. “This is the happiest I've been in a very long time, darling. I love you.”

Emma smiled back, caressing his face. “I love you too, Killian. So much.” She leaned in for another kiss, lips barely brushing his when there was a knock at the door.

“Bloody hell,” Killian grumbled. He touched his forehead to hers, heaving a sigh. “Who is it?”

“Smee, Captain.”

Reluctantly, Killian got up, pulling on his trousers. “Stay right there, lass.” Emma hiked the blanket back up over her, until her body was hidden from view. “This better be good, Mr. Smee,” Killian snapped, as he opened the door a crack. Emma couldn't hear their whispered conversation, but she knew they wouldn't be spending anymore time in bed when she saw the look on Killian's face.

“What's wrong?”

“Best get dressed, lass. Badger's here.” But he was avoiding her eyes.

Emma didn't move. She could tell it was more than that. “Killian, _what is going on?”_

“Smee says he saw a troop of soldiers bearing your kingdom's colors coming into the village a little while ago. Probably a search party. Or they got lost. We can head out the back way and avoid them. You're going back to the ship. I'll deal with Badger.”

Emma shook her head. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Killian pulled on his shirt, nearly ripping the sheer fabric in irritation. “Damn it, Emma, this isn't a _game_. They're here looking for _you_. I'm not letting them take you from me.”

Emma got up too, wishing she had her shirt and trousers instead of the dress. It took far too long to dress for her liking. “You said it yourself, you need me to be there when you talk to Badger. I'm staying.” She wasn't afraid, not of her own people. She didn't want to be parted from him. What if something went wrong? He was just as much a fugitive as she was.

“Lass, I've dealt with him many a time; I'll be fine.”

“If you're going, then so am I. I'm not the only one they're looking for, you know.”

Killian ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up all over the place. “Please, just do this for me, love. Please.”

Emma smoothed down her skirt and came over to where he stood. She helped him click his hook back into place, her smaller hand brushing the cool metal lovingly. “Where you go, I go, Killian. Always.”

“Gods, but you're a stubborn lass,” Killian breathed, bringing his other hand up to cup her cheek. He let out a sigh. “Alright. But promise me you'll stay by my side. We'll get this over with and get far way from here.”

“I promise.”

* * *

A half hour later, they were huddled back in a dank alley, one that smelled faintly of fish and other...rotting things. Emma had to fight the urge to cover her nose. Smee was with them, carrying the long thin box which held Rumplestiltskin's trinket. Both men more or less shielded Emma from view of the street. It wasn't the ideal situation, but it was better than being forced back to the ship.

A short man of about forty came out from the shadows. He wore an odd looking hat and had a mistrustful, unkempt look about him. Emma knew immediately that she'd made the right choice. Whatever his other nefarious qualifications, this Badger couldn't be trusted. She had a very bad feeling.

“Killian,” Emma whispered. “There's something _wrong_ here.”

“I know,” he whispered back. “You have the dagger I gave you?”

“Yes.” She pulled it out, her fingers curling around the handle., keeping it out of view. She put her hand to Killian's back, letting him know she was ready for whatever trouble they'd found themselves in now.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to everyone who caught the Firefly reference! I love Badger and Mark Sheppard!

Killian felt Emma's hand press into the small of his back; she was ready. He was furious with himself for getting her into another dangerous predicament, but he didn't have time to wallow in self recrimination. He could do that once they got back to the ship. Right now, he had to focus.

“Badger,” he said, nodding his head to the unkempt man.

“Hook.” Badger took off his hat and rolled it in his fingers. He always did that when he was nervous; it was his tell. “Mr. Smee tells me you have a valuable object you wish to unload?”

“Aye. I was hoping to see you last night though.” Killian's eyes darted around the cramped alley, looking for trouble. He was beginning to feel like a caged animal. There was only one escape route.

“I was unavoidably delayed. Surely, you understand these things.” Badger stepped closer, his dark eyes looking past Killian, to where Emma stood. “Aren't you going to introduce me to the lass?”

Killian bristled. “She's not any of your concern. I just want to get this blasted thing off my ship and be on my way.”

Badger shrugged. “What's it to me? Seems a bit pretty for a whore though, I must say.”

Killian gritted his teeth; he could feel Emma tensing behind him. “She's not a whore,” he said at the same time Emma said, “I'm _not_ a whore.”

Badger laughed. “Yeah. Got that. And just _who_ are you, lass?”

Killian was about to open his mouth when Emma stepped out in front of him, much to his chagrin. “Diana,” she said in a clear voice. “Killian's wife.” To his surprise, she held out her hand to be kissed.

To his even greater surprise, Badger bowed low and kissed the proffered hand. “You are a lucky bastard, Jones,” the little man said, looking back Killian. “She's a beauty.”

Killian only relaxed a fraction; he still had a bad feeling. But he smiled all the same, fiercely proud his wife, thinking on her feet like that. “She's a lot more than that. Now shall we?”

He saw Badger glance up toward one of the rooftops; as Killian suspected, they weren't alone. The shorter man swallowed uncomfortably and nodded. “Indeed. Let's see what you've brought me today.”

Killian nodded at Smee, tamping down on the instinct that was telling him to get the hell out of there. They really _did_ need to unload that…whatever it was. It was magical and powerful and the longer they kept it the more it could be used as a beacon, leading Rumplestiltskin right to them. Emma nodded at him encouragingly, her head giving a quick tilt to the right. He glanced that way; there was a crowd gathering at the end of the alley. They were being bottled in.

Smee unwrapped the box and lifted the lid. The mysterious staff lay in its velvet pillow, just as it had when Killian had first seen it. Badger's eyes went wide. “I'll be a buggered arse,” he said in awe.

“Do you know what it is?”

“Know what it _is_? You mean you don't know?”

“Do I look like bloody Rumplestiltskin to you, Badger?”

Badger's dirty hand skimmed over the old wood. “This, my friend, is Merlin's staff. At least I _think_ is. Could be a copy though. No way to know, really.”

“It's real.” Both Killian and Badger looked at Emma curiously.

“How's that, lass?”

Emma shrugged, looking as confused as they were. “I'm...not sure. I just...know.”

“You'll have to forgive me if I don't take your word for it, love,” Badger replied.

Killian scowled. “If she says it's real, then it is. Why would Rumplestiltskin send a fake to try and barter with? Don't make sense.”

Badger seemed to consider that. “I'll give you a thousand for it.”

Killian huffed indignantly. “It's worth ten times that!” _At least_. Most likely it was priceless, but it was more dangerous to hold on to it.

“Five thousand,” Emma cut in. “Take it or leave it.” She looked meaningfully down the alley again; Killian saw the crowd getting bigger.

“Now see here!” Badger cried. “I'm just a humble...” But Killian had had enough. Badger was stalling them on purpose. In fact, the exchange of goods was probably the signal for his _new friends_ to close in. And they weren't getting anywhere near Emma.

Killian shoved Badger against the wall in mid sentence and lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “Listen to me. You're going to do whatever you have to do to call off your new mates.” Badger opened his mouth, but Killian continued. “Don't bother denying it, you're a terrible liar. The lass is excellent at ferreting out liars. Betray us and you'll answer to her.”

“I swear I didn't know. They promised me a post if I brought them the princess.”

Killian closed his eyes. “So you know who she is.”

“What were you _thinking_ bringing her here? And with _that_. Do you know what's been happening? The whole Enchanted Forest is uproar because of you, _pirate_ ,” Badger spat.

“I don't care about the bloody Enchanted Forest,” Killian hissed. “All I care about is her. Get us out of here and you can _have_ the damned stick. And do what you like with it!”

“Sir,” Smee said softly. “They're coming.”

“Guess you're too late, Badger,” Killian said, stepping back and drawing his sword. “Your new friends aren't very patient, are they?” He turned back to Emma and Smee. “Smee, give Emma the box. Lass, stay behind me. Please.”

Emma nodded. “Only until I can get an actual sword,” she said grimly. She was hacking at her pretty dress, tearing away the cloth that would hinder her movements. He hated to see her ruin her pretty things, but this was far more practical. When she finished, she accepted the box from Smee and held her dagger the way Killian had taught her.

Killian looked back at their welcoming party, still moving slowly as not to arouse the suspicion of the locals. “Looks like we'll have to cut our way out,” he said grimly. “Unless, of course, Badger, you've changed your mind?”

The little man looked from Killian to his erstwhile compatriots. He was just as much of a shady character as Killian was. And in Killian's experience, anyone associated with royalty couldn't be trusted to keep their end of a bargain, as they thought themselves better than everyone else. Most royalty was either lazy or corrupt, so the odds of Badger getting what he was promised from some low level soldier in the name of his lord was nearly nil. As if reading his mind, an arrow came out of nowhere and thunked into the wood just past Badger's head.

“Bloody hell,” he hissed. “ _Fine_. Follow me. But I want my payment, Jones.”

“Smee, knock over that mound of foul smelling garbage and follow us. Don't dawdle,” Killian ordered. More soldiers were knocking arrows now, potential silent death whizzing through the air. “After you, lass.” He pushed Emma forward, keeping himself between her and the oncoming troops. He'd taken an arrow a long time ago and had no wish for her to experience such a thing.

Badger led them through the back of the alley and into an old dilapidated building. There was barely enough light to see in front of their faces. “Where the bloody hell is the blasted door?” he grumbled, kicking at the thick dust.

“You mean that door?” Emma asked sarcastically, her eyes looking back the way they had come. It appeared to be the only way in or out.

“No, no, no. Trap door. Leads to a tunnel. The dust is so bloody thick in here!”

Smee burst through the way they had come in, two soldiers hot on his heels. Killian rushed forward, cutlass raised, taking on the first, kicking with his foot. “Find that bloody door, Badger, or so help me...” he shouted.

The little man's eyes were wide and terrified as he took in the scene of Killian and Smee holding off the intruders as more of them poured through the doorway. Killian caught one last glance at Emma as she tugged harshly on Badger's coat, getting him to refocus on the task at hand. The doorway was narrow, only a two or three soldiers could get through at a time, but they just kept coming. If they didn't get out of here soon...

“Found it!” Emma cried triumphantly. She threw open the door and pushed Badger down through it. “Smee, you next.”

“Emma, no...” Killian protested, but she was too quick, throwing her dagger at the man attacking Smee, sending him sprawling. Smee yelped in surprise, but hurried toward her, thudding down the ladder. Killian punched his attacker in the face with his hook, slashed a second and ran for it.

“Princess...”

With that one word, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Emma looked up, her eyes wide with recognition. Whoever it was, it was someone she knew. The man—no, it was a boy, no older than seventeen—came toward her, hand outstretched, beseeching. “Your parents...”

But Emma cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Tell them I'm _happy_ , Tom. Please. I can't go back there. I'm sorry.” She glanced at Killian, then at Tom, before disappearing down the ladder herself.

Killian followed, a million questions running through his head. As soon as he reached the bottom of the dank moldy tunnel, he reached up, trying to secure the door so no one could follow. The old latch disintegrated his hand, the old metal rusted through. Someone was already pounding on the door, trying to pry it open. “Bloody hell.” Killian unscrewed his hook and looped it through what was left of the latch, buying them some precious time. “Get us out of here, damn it.”

Badger led them through the tunnel, the sounds of pursuit getting farther and farther away. It was so dark, they could hardly see where they were going, relying on Badger's knowledge of the tunnel. Killian sheathed his cutlass and reached forward, catching Emma's hand in his. He squeezed gently, knowing that had to have been hard for her, seeing someone she knew before. She squeezed back, but didn't look at him.

“You alright, love?”

“Not really. Can we talk about this later?”

“Of course.” This really wasn’t the time or the place to be having any kind of meaningful conversation, but he didn’t want her to think she was alone. Killian squeezed her hand one last time and pulled it back, silently urging Badger forward. The sooner they got to the _Jolly_ the more at ease he would be.

The tunnel seemed to go on for miles, or perhaps it just appeared that way because it was dark. But finally, _finally_ , Killian saw a bead of light. “About bloody time,” he swore. “Where are we?”

“Down by the docks actually,” Badger informed him. “I’ve brought you to right to that wreck you call a ship. My payment, if you please.”

“All in good time.” Killian pushed past Emma, giving her waist a reassuring squeeze. When he caught up to Badger, he could see the tunnel forked, one path leading left, the other right. “What’s this?”

“ _This_ is where we part ways. You may be able to escape on that ship, but I’ve got to lay low,” Badger complained, as if he was very put out by the change of events. And that said change was Killian’s fault. “I’ve got ties to the community!”

Killian snorted. “You’re no better than me, you insufferable arse. You’ll wait until the soldiers are gone then go back to…whatever it is you do. If I find out you’ve breathed one _word_ of any of this to anyone, I _will_ hunt you down. Is that understood?”

Badger had the courtesy to look frightened. “Of course. Your secret is safe with old Badger.”

Killian didn’t actually believe him, but they had little choice. They’d be back on board the _Jolly_ soon enough, then they could get out of here. Probably never to return. Killian was a bit sad he wouldn’t get to say goodbye to Ed. He would miss the old coot.

“Emma, love, bring Badger his prize.”

Emma came forward, carrying the box, one elegant brow raised questioningly. Killian shook his head; he’d explain everything to her later. “Good riddance,” she said, shoving the box at Badger. Killian couldn’t tell if she was talking about the staff or Badger. Probably just as well.

The ne’er do well’s dark eyes gleamed in the low light. “You’ll fetch a pretty price,” he said softly. He curled the box under his arm and nodded at Killian and Emma. “Captain. Princess. It’s been a pleasure.” He gave them a mock salute and headed down the left tunnel.

“I really hope we never see him again,” Emma muttered as Badger slipped into the darkness.

“If we’re lucky,” Killian replied. “Come on, the _Jolly’s_ this way.” He led them through the lightening tunnel, the sounds of the docks getting louder as they walked. When they reached the end, Killian looked up; there was another trap door. He had no idea where it came out, but they would have to risk it. “Stay right here.” He climbed the makeshift ladder and pushed open the door just enough to get an idea of where they were. The bright light from outside blinded him for a few seconds, but he blinked it away until his eyes could focus. “Buggering fuck.”

“What? What is it?” Emma asked at his feet.

“There’s a whole line of soldiers between us and my ship.”

* * *

“So what do we do, Capt’n?” Smee asked as they huddled behind a pile of crates. They’d managed to climb out of the tunnel undetected, but Killian didn’t see how that luck could hold until they got back to the ship. Next to him, Emma shivered in the cool air. Killian took off his heavy coat and helped her slip into it. It dwarfed her, but mostly covered her exposed legs. She nodded at him in thanks, her eyes worried.

“I’m the one they’re after,” she said softly. “Maybe if I…”

Killian cut her off. “Do you _want_ to go back, love?”

“Of course not. But how else are you going to get through to the ship?”

“You mean, how are _we_ going to get through. I’m not leaving you.”

“Killian…” But Emma’s protest got cut off, but an eager Mr. Smee.

“Captain, missus. _Look._ ”

Killian whipped his head around and looked in the direction Smee was pointing. Old Ed was down at the docks—Killian was sure he’d never seen him outside his tavern before—talking to what appeared to be the head of the patrol. Very animatedly. The old man glanced once in Killian’s direction, then away quickly, giving an almost imperceptible nod of his head. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“What?”

“Unless, I’m very much mistaken, my love, I do believe Old Ed is distracting the guard so that we can get back to the ship.”

“How did he even know we were here?”

“I told him,” a female voice said from behind them. All three wheeled around and saw Diana standing there, looking a bit awkward. “I heard about the scuffle in the alley on my way into work, and I knew Ed would want to know. Since you’re his friend.”

“Thank you, Diana,” Emma said sincerely. “We really can’t thank you enough.”

The dark haired woman shook her head. “It was no trouble. I’m…sorry about last night. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.”

“Not to sound ungrateful,” Smee interjected, “but I think the guard’s heading off. We should get back to the ship.”

Killian saw Emma squeeze Diana’s hand once, before turning and following Smee out from behind the crates. Killian nodded at her gratefully and followed, drawing his cutlass, just in case. They were about halfway to the ship—walking, not running so that they didn’t draw attention to themselves—when Killian heard a deep male voice shout.

“ _Bloody hell_. Run for it!” he shouted at Emma and Smee.

The ground under them pounded with both their footsteps and those of their pursuers. It almost felt like an earthquake. Killian shouted orders at his crew, knowing they would need to shove off immediately. Arrows whizzed through the air once more as they tore up the gangplank, making Killian duck. “Mr. Smee, get her below decks. _Now!”_

Emma protested vigorously, but Smee and Harrison caught her by the arms and practically dragged her off. Killian knew he’d never be able to focus if he was worried about her safety as he tried to get them the hell out of there. And he wanted as much distance as possible between her and the men who wanted to take her away from him. As soon as he was onboard, Killian kicked away the gangplank and shouted more orders. A couple of the guard tried to jump the distance; one made it, but the other hit the edge hard, arms flailing, seeking purchase against the enchanted wood. He found none, slipping into the berth with a loud splash.

A stiff wind came out of the east, almost as if by magic, and Killian shouted at the helmsman. “Get us underway, Mr. Lucas!” He turned around, ducking as the lone guard who’d made the jump slashed at him. Killian grinned wolfishly and attacked, swords clanging in the late morning light. The dock got smaller at the _Jolly Roger_ picked up speed, sailing away from the little village. They were safe.

Killian kicked at his opponent, spinning on his heel and slashing the man across the chest. He caught the edge of his sword with his own and twisted, forcing the guard the relinquish his sword. The man's knees buckled and Killian hovered over him, cutlass against the man's throat. He was about to deliver the killing blow when his leg buckled under him.

“ _Killian!”_

Emma’s scream pierced his ears as pain bloomed, sharp and hot. He collapsed to the ground, his leg no longer able to bear his weight. The guard rolled away but was immediately set upon by his crew. They had him tied up in moments. Emma came into Killian’s vision as he rolled painfully onto his back, blood starting to drip down his leather pants.

“Oh gods,” Emma whispered, cradling his head in her lap. “Harrison!”

“What?” Killian croaked.

“Shh, it’s an arrow, Killian. Don’t try to talk, okay? You’re gonna be fine.” But Killian could hear the frightened tremor in her voice. Harrison was at their side a lifetime later, at least it felt that way to Killian. He was drifting a bit, the world going a bit hazy around the edges from blood loss. It was a feeling he knew all too well.

“Roll him onto his side,” Harrison said. Emma tried to do so without causing him more pain, but Killian winced anyway. She brushed a kiss to his damp forehead as Harrison bent to get a better look. “It doesn’t appear to be deep, but we’ll have to take it out. Not here. We have to get him to the galley.”

Killian watched as if from a distance, his consciousness starting to fail him. Emma took charge, ordering six of his men to carry him down to the galley. He craned his head, trying to watch her, even now needing to know she was alright. She had a whispered conversation with Smee before turning and following below to the galley.

He was in so much pain he could hardly keep his eyes open, but he forced himself to stay awake. If he fell asleep now, he may not wake up. And he couldn’t leave Emma alone. Killian cried out when they put him on the chopping table, an eerie sense of déjà vu coming over him. Emma was at his side in an instant, holding onto his hand tightly.

“You’re gonna be okay, Killian. Just stay with me now.” She gave him a tremulous smile, her green eyes unable to hide her worry and concern. Was it worse than he thought?

There was a snapping sound and Killian yelped. “Sorry,” Harrison muttered. “I needed to break the shaft to get to the arrow head.”

“Just get on with it,” Killian said through clenched teeth.

“Lass, how good are you with a needle and thread?” Harrison asked, fetching what looked to be a nasty pair of pliers.

“Good enough,” she replied firmly. “What do you need me to do?”

“As soon as I get the head out, I’m gonna clean it with hot water. It’s not ideal but it’s the best we can do. Then you’ll have to sew the wound closed. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Good, now, take off the Captain’s belt and wrap it tightly around the top of his leg. I want to minimize the bleeding until we can get him closed up.”

Killian groaned as Emma let go of his hand and unbuckled his belt. She pulled it out and wrapped it around his leg, the blood making the leather slippery. Once it was secure, she took his hand again. “Ready, Killian?”

He bit back a curse and nodded. He was fading fast, the darkness creeping in. He turned enough to give Harrison the best angle and tried to brace himself. Pain like he hadn’t felt since the loss of his hand lanced through him and he screamed. He screamed so long that he didn’t even realize that the world had gone black.

* * *

Killian felt soft hands brushing over his skin, followed by a damp cloth pressing against his brow. He opened his mouth to speak but was caught by the dryness in his throat. Killian grunted and heaved his eyelids open. It took him a moment to focus, but when he did, he saw Emma's worried green eyes staring back at him.

“'ello, beautiful,” he choked out. He really did need something to drink.

Emma smiled down at him in relief, bending down to pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Gods, I missed you,” she said, righting herself and reaching for a cup. Carefully, she raised him up just enough for him to take a few precious sips of cool, clean water. He'd rarely tasted anything so satisfying.

Killian swallowed a few times before trying to speak. “How long have I been out?”

“A little over a day,” Emma replied, perching back on the edge of their bunk and taking his handless arm into her lap. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, love. I'll be more careful in the future.”

“It's not funny, Killian.”

Killian frowned. “I didn't mean to imply that it was, lass.” He saw the lingering fear in her expression, the way she held her shoulders. He reached over with his good hand, holding hers awkwardly. “I've survived worse, Emma. It'll take more than a little scratch to kill me.”

Emma smiled weakly. “It was more than a little scratch. I sewed it up, remember? Or maybe you don't.”

Killian shook his head. “Can't say that I do. But I trust you, love.” He knew she would do whatever it took to save his life. He knew because he would do the same for her. Living a life without her was no longer an option. Not for him.

Emma squeezed his fingers. “Just _try_ not to get shot again, okay? Or I might have to actually start practicing my stitching.”

Killian laughed, but winced almost immediately. Even that small movement hurt.

“Try not to move too much,” Emma chided him, standing. “Harrison said it would hurt for a while.”

“Story of my life,” Killian muttered. “I'll be fine, lass.”

“Do you need anything?”

Killian smirked, waggling his brows at her. “Well, since you asked...”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You're impossible.”

“I almost _died_ , Emma. Surely that merits some _extra_ consideration?” He really was in no shape for any kind of exertion, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He may be in pain, but he was still a _man_ and Emma was still beautiful, even like this.

“As soon as you can walk from that bed to the door without falling,” Emma said sternly. “Is there anything _else_ I can get you?”

In the end, she got him some bread and cheese and more water to wash it down. He hadn't eaten in almost two days; he didn't realize how famished he was until the smell of fresh bread entered the cabin. Emma insisted on feeding him from her own hand. He felt a bit ridiculous at first, but didn't argue. He knew she needed this, to remind her that he really was back with her. But the time he was finished he was tired again. Emma crawled into the bed, carefully avoiding jostling his leg, and settled in next to him.

Killian wrapped his good arm around her as she laid her head on his chest. “Have you slept at all, love?”

“No.”

He felt awful for putting her through all this. If he'd been faster or smarter or...something, she wouldn't have been in danger in the first place, then up for days looking after him. “I'm sorry.”

Emma raised her head. “For what?”

“For bringing you into this life. You deserve better.”

“I _chose_ this life, Killian. I _chose_ you. I'd do it again. I left in the first place because my choice was taken away from me.”

“But your parents...”

Emma bit her lip. “I miss them. But as long as they try to _force_ me to return, I'll fight just as hard to stay with you. When I see them again, I want it to be because they respect me and my choice. And my choice is _you.”_

“Oh, love...”

“Shh,” she said, putting a finger to his lips. “You need your rest. Let's just sleep, okay?”

“As you wish.”

The next time he woke, Emma was seated at his desk, a sheaf of parchment in front of her. She had a quill adorably clenched between her teeth. She looked deep in thought. Killian rolled onto his side to watch her better, a groan escaping as pain shot up his leg. “Ow.”

Emma was up in an instant. “I'm not the only one here who's stubborn,” she muttered, her arms going around him to help into a more comfortable position.

“You didn't have to, love. I'm not _that_ much of an invalid.” But he winced again, giving the lie to his words.

“Sure, you're not.” Emma kissed his temple tenderly. “My stubborn amazing pirate.”

“Don't feel very much like the latter, love.” Killian moved gingerly, adjusting his seat until he could lean back against the wall. “That's a bit better.”

“The fact that you're willing put up with all this is more than enough.”

Killian brought her hand to his lips. “I love you, Emma. I'd put up with a lot more than this to have you in my life.”

Emma flushed, her cheeks tinging pink. “I've been trying to come up with a way to explain that to my parents, a way for them to understand.”

“May I see?” he asked quietly. He didn't want to pry, but he had to admit to being insanely curious. But if she didn't want him to see it, he wouldn't push. She hadn't spoken much of her life as a princess, of her parents. He knew only the barest bones, the small morsels she'd been willing to divulge. He'd met them of course, but considering the circumstances he didn't think that showed them in the best light. And Emma was so incredible...at least part of that had to attributed to the people who had raised her, right?

Emma stared at him, silently wondering if he was mocking her. At length she nodded and moved to fetch the parchment from the desk. She handed him the page and settled in next to him while he read.

_Mother,_

_I'm sorry for not writing sooner. Frankly, I was scared. Afraid of how you and Papa would react to what I've done. Hopefully, this letter will help you understand why I did what I did._

_My whole life I've lived as the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, the embodiment of the greatest love in all the realms. And I've always dreamed of finding my True Love one day, even though I didn't always act like it. How could I want anything less after growing up with you? Seeing my dreams crash around me...it was too much. So like you, Mother, I decided to forge a new life for myself. Away from all the trappings of royalty with someone I love._

_Strange as it may seem to you, I love him. The pirate. The man I see in him. Perhaps it's a weakness I got from my mother. But Killian loves me just as I love him and we're_ happy _. I would love nothing more than for you to see what I see when I look at him, but I'm not expecting a miracle. All I ask is that you respect that this is my choice._

_I love you. I love Papa. I miss you. I hope to see you both again one day. Hopefully soon. Until then I remain your loving daughter--_

_Emma_

Killian lowered the parchment, completely floored. He didn't know how to properly express the feelings that were swirling around in his head. Just when he thought he couldn't love her more...

“Killian?”

The slight tremor in her voice made his heart ache. As if he would mock her for her heartfelt words. About him. About what he means to her. Killian ignored the pain long enough to tip her head up and kiss her. “I love you, Emma. So much that I can't even think straight most of the time. I will try my best to be the man you described in here. I promise you.” He kissed her again, wishing he wasn't in so much pain. He wanted to love her properly so badly. But he couldn't.

Emma smiled, reaching down to squeeze his hand. “So do you think that was okay?”

“I don't know your mother as well as you do, lass, but I'd be hard pressed to argue with _that_.”

“She's stubborn.”

“Ah, like mother, like daughter then. I like her already.”

Emma swatted at his shoulder playfully. “I don't know, she did sentence you to die.”

“We'll just get that reversed when we take you home.” At the alarmed look on her face, he quickly amended. “A long while from now, once your parents accept us.”

“You know, it could be your home too. Someday,” Emma said cautiously. “I know I married a pirate, but you married a princess. That makes you a prince. Technically.”

“Prince? Do I have to wear stuffy clothes and order people about like a ponce?”

Emma giggled. “Not if you don't want to. One of the advantages of being royal.”

“Love, I haven't had much luck with royalty. Present company accepted, of course.”

“You caught them on a bad day. My parents are surprisingly progressive and fun most of the time.”

“Do tell. We've got nothing but time it seems.”

Emma grinned, launching into the tale of the princess who became a bandit. And the bandit met a prince who was really a shepherd. How they fell in love and overcame great obstacles, ultimately defeating the Evil Queen and reclaiming their kingdom. Killian fell asleep listening to the sound of Emma's voice.

* * *

Looking back at it, he should have known it was too good to last. They had dodged too many arrows—metaphorically speaking—had too many close calls. He should have known everything would eventually blow up in their faces. But he’d had hope.

Now, sitting on the edge of his bunk clutching another message in Emma’s scrawl, he had none.

In the wake of his injury, Emma had virtually taken over his ship. She’d been on board long enough now that she could handle almost anything. He’d come to discover that while he’d been unconscious, she’d gone about like a woman possessed, getting them out of harm’s way and nursing him at the same time. Not a single person argued with her, obeying her orders as if they’d come from him. He was very proud when she finally filled him in.

However, the fact remained that he needed time to heal. So he only grumbled a little when she put him on bed rest and assured him she could handle everything. Smee brought him daily reports; Killian was still the captain and everything that happened on board was ultimately still his responsibility. But he needn’t have worried; his wife was more than capable.

Things started to go downhill when they stumbled upon an almost irresistible prize, a nice fat merchant ship with a broken mast. She was dead in the water. In the past, Killian wouldn’t have hesitated, but with their recent luck, he was reluctant to give the go ahead. He didn’t want to bring more trouble down on their heads, not with him still recovering. He was barely walking unassisted, in no shape for fighting. But Emma overruled him and led the boarding party herself.

He watched, heart in his throat, as Emma took over the ship; the enemy crew offering little resistance. His pride and love for her warred with the urge to protect her until his stomach was all in knots. He’d never felt anything like it and he couldn’t say it was a feeling he ever wanted to experience again. He hated not being at her side; it felt like there was a piece of him _missing_.

Killian thought he covered it fairly well though. The truth was it had been a good haul and everyone was fine. Emma had the captain’s chest brought to their quarters so she could go through it personally.

Killian wished they had never seen that ship.

In the days after, Emma became more and more withdrawn. More sullen, prone to angry outbursts. At first, he just assumed it was a feminine…thing. Or stress from his slow recovery. He did what he could, replacing his hook, taking on more duties, pushing his body past its limits until he ached. Even though he _was_ getting better—thank the gods—nothing seemed to help. Finally, determined to find out _what_ was going on with her, he cornered her in their cabin.

“Emma, love, _what_ is going on? You’ve been avoiding me.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Darling, this ship’s not that big. And while you may be excellent at reading lies, you’re a terrible liar yourself. Talk to me, Emma. Please.” He saw her stubbornness waver, the anguish she’d been hiding threatening to engulf her gorgeous emerald eyes. It worried him. “Whatever it is, you’re not alone, love.”

Emma pushed past him—for a moment he thought she’d leave—but she went to dig in the chest they’d brought over from their last catch. It only took her a moment to find what she was looking for, a scroll tied with a ribbon. Killian could see the broken seal of her kingdom at the edge. A message from her parents? But why would she hide it? He got his answer as soon as he unrolled the parchment on his desk.

_Frederick,_

_As you’ve no doubt discovered by now, my daughter Emma has disappeared. No, not disappeared. She’s run away from us, from her home. We’ve been friends for a long time, Fred, and you and Abigail of all people understand just how difficult such separation is. Snow is beside herself. She’s not eating and I’m getting worried. But I am terrified for my little girl. She may be grown now, but she’s still innocent about so much of the world. I’m her father and I can’t protect her anymore._

_As terrible as all of this is, it is not the woe of which I write. Emma was betrothed to the Dark One’s son just before she ran away. It is not the match I wanted for her. Part of me always hoped she’d take a shine to your boy Charles, but whoever she’d chosen I would have accepted. Unfortunately, our hand was forced. The Dark One threatened our people and so I agreed to something awful. I sacrificed my daughter’s future happiness for safety. I was weak. I can’t tell you how much I regret that now. But Emma’s bravery has had consequences. The Dark One has been ravaging our land, seeking revenge. Even now, he is looking for her._

_If it were merely Snow and I, I would gladly let Emma remain wherever she is. I pray she is happy. But I can’t sit by and allow the Dark One to harm her, especially for something that is my fault. So I beg of you, if you see Emma, or hear of her, please tell her that I am sorry. To come home. I just want her safe._

_Then it will be time for all of us to put an end to the Dark One’s machinations once and for all._

_David_

Killian raised his eyes to Emma’s, a mixture of apprehension and relief flooding him. He could see now why Emma was acting so strangely. “I’m so sorry, love,” he said quietly, reaching for her. She came willingly, burying her head in his chest, her tears soaking his shirt. She’d been holding all that in for days now and he let her get it out, holding her and stroking her hair.

“I have to go,” she said at last, looking up at him with tear stained cheeks.

Killian nodded. “Aye, we’ll set a course first thing in the morning.”

Emma shook her head. “No, _I’m_ going. Alone.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Killian, I’m not one of your crew. You can’t order me about,” she retorted, bristling. She pulled away and crossed her arms over her chest.

“No, I can’t. But I _am_ your husband. ‘Where you go, I go,’ remember?”

“This is different.”

“How? I may only be a lowly pirate, but I can _read_ , Emma. Your father merely wants your happiness. And wants you safe from the worst evil this world has. I can’t fault the man for that.”

“I’m not going home.”

Killian raised an incredulous brow. “What do you mean not going home? Just where the bloody hell do you intend to go?”

She could no longer meet his eyes. “Where I should have been all along. The Dark One’s castle.”

It felt like she’d slapped him in the face. To think she’d willingly turn herself over to that monster as some sort of sacrificial lamb… Killian shook his head. “You’re leaving this ship over my dead body. I won’t let you destroy yourself, Emma. Rumplestiltskin will _kill_ you.”

“Damn it, Killian, he’s already killing people. _My_ people. I’m their princess, meant to rule them one day and I _abandoned_ them. I gave in to selfishness and now innocent people are _dying_ , don’t you understand that?”

“Is that all I am to you? A selfish whim?”

Emma looked horrified. “No, Killian. _No_. Don’t you understand how hard this is for me? I _love_ you. I love you so much that just the thought of leaving you _guts_ me. But I can’t just stay here and let innocents die. I have to make this right.”

“And letting that imp kill you is making it right?” he shouted. Killian ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Emma, listen to me. I’ve spent almost my entire adult life pursuing revenge. Nearly bloody well destroyed myself in the process. When Liam died…I thought it was all I had. But it didn’t bring him back. Sacrificing yourself won’t bring those poor people back either.”

“But it will save others from dying.” Emma’s voice was quiet, more tears slipping down her cheeks. “I don’t want to die. I want to go home. I want my parents to see us happy together. I want to have children with you. I want to see them grow up and have adventures. I want to see you with gray in your hair.” She laughed, a slightly maniacal, hysterical sound. “You’ll probably be even more dashing then.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, love.”

“But I can’t have those things. I’m the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. I’ve been running from that and I can’t anymore.”

“There has to be another way.”

“I don’t see one.”

Killian looked down at the parchment again. “Your father seems to think so. If you won’t listen to me, listen to him. Let me take you home. And we can all figure this out together.”

He could see her resolve crumbling. He hated seeing her in such distress. She cared _so_ much about people, her parents, him, his crew, and people she’d never even met. Killian didn’t see how anyone could meet her and _not_ love her. She’d changed his life and hardly batted an eyelash. He couldn’t let her destroy that, not if there was another way. And there _had_ to be. He refused to believe that the world would be so cruel as to take her from him.

“I promise you, Emma. We _will_ find a way.” Emma choked back a sob and threw herself into his arms, making him stagger a bit under her weight. His leg throbbed but he ignored it, clutching her to his chest. He never wanted to let her go again.

Emma wiped her tears and raised her head, leaning in to kiss him. It started out chaste and gentle, but deepened quickly as all their anxiety and worry and fear came bubbling back up. She kissed him like it was the last thing she would ever do and he let her. Somehow, they made their way to the bunk, all awkward shuffles and tangled limbs. Emma pulled away from his mouth long enough to tug his shirt over his head, before pushing him back on to the bed.

“Emma, love…” he began, but Emma shushed him.

“I need you, Killian. I need to _feel_ you. Please.”

Unable to deny her anything, Killian rose up and fused his mouth to hers, tongues tangling. Emma moaned into it, her hands on his bare chest as if trying to memorize him. He understood the urge; their life together was precious and fragile and they needed every good moment they could get. Killian's hand tangled in her hair, the golden tresses slipping through his fingers like water. He curled his left arm around her waist, pulling her against him as they fell back on to the mattress, kissing like their lives depended on it.

Emma ground her hips against his, the heat of her soaking right through their layers of clothing. Killian bucked underneath her, ignoring the dull flash of pain. Having her soft pliant body against his was far more important than some discomfort. They hadn't been truly together since his injury and while Emma's talented hands and mouth had kept him sane, he needed to be inside her. Needed to feel the heat of her wrapped around him, sending him into blissful oblivion.

Far slower than he wanted, Emma shed their clothes; each article of clothing landing in a pile on the floor. Gradually, his impatience eased, as he let her do what she wanted. It had been far too long since they could simply enjoy one another. She kissed every inch of skin that she could, occasionally scraping her teeth over a sensitive spot on his torso. She knew all the places that made him moan with want, all the tricks that sent shivers down his spine. Killian's lack of mobility gave Emma unimpeded access to his body and she took full advantage, leaving him gasping.

“Gods, Emma,” he breathed, brushing her hair away from her face. “I missed you so much.”

She nodded, giving him a small smile before going back to her task, sucking a mark into the skin of his hip. He bucked under her, getting increasingly desperate for friction. “Emma,” he said, his voice cracking, almost bordering on a whine. “I need you, love.”

Unceremoniously, Emma sat up and straddled his hips, drawing his hand down to her slick heat. “Can you feel that?” she asked huskily. She was soaked, the heat of her almost scorching against the pads of his fingers, making him groan. “This what you do to me, Killian. Always.” She ground her hips against his hand, soft sighs and moans escaping her swollen pink lips. She rubbed herself on him, riding his fingers, until she was coming, long and loud, head thrown back in ecstasy. It was one of the most erotic things Killian had ever seen.

But it left him with the worst case of blue balls he had ever known. He sat up and jerked his hand down to his cock. He positioned himself at her entrance and guided her down onto him, a long moan tearing from his throat. “You're gonna ride me now, Emma,” he growled against her skin. He lowered his head and dragged his teeth over her hard nipple. “You're gonna ride me until we _both_ can't walk.”

Emma nodded wordlessly, still breathless from her first orgasm. She let him guide her movement, his hooked arm going around her waist. She went slowly for a while until she'd caught her breath and Killian cursed his injury. He wished he could flip them over and just  _fuck_ her, but this would have to do. Emma threaded he fingers into his hair, bringing his head back down to her chest, arching her back.

“Touch me, Killian. Please.”

He captured her nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the ripe peak, grinning at her needy moan. He teased her mercilessly, sucking and biting and soothing until the skin was tender and dark pink. Then he switched, needing to hear more of the sounds she made. Emma bit her lip and increased her pace, a second peak coiling tightly in her stomach.

“That's it, Emma,” Killian mumbled against her skin. “Gods, you feel so good.”

He didn't know what he would do without her; she was so ingrained in every part of him now. He'd follow her to the very gates of hell if it meant her got to stay with her. He raised his head and dragged her lips back to his, kissing her like she was the air he needed to breathe. He was on a knife's edge, his release threatening to engulf him at any moment.

“Faster, love,” he panted. “So close.”

Emma obeyed; her legs had to be burning with the effort but she kept going, bringing his new hook down between them and circling her clit with the curved edge. He felt the tip scratch his skin, but he was too far gone to feel any pain. In moments, Emma screamed out her climax, walls gripping him tightly. Killian followed her almost instantly, her name spilling from his lips in a hoarse shout. He continued to rub her with his hook, drawing out her pleasure as she went limp in his arms.

Emma whimpered softly when he finally pulled the hook away, her head falling to his shoulder. She felt weak as a kitten; Killian gently laid them back, Emma sprawling across his chest. Awkwardly, Killian managed to unclasp his brace and chuck it to the floor. He drew his hand along her spine as they slowly regained control of their thudding hearts and heavy breathing.

For a few moments, Killian thought she was asleep, but she surprised him by raising her head and smiling at him. With her mussed hair, kiss swollen lips, bright green eyes and flushed cheeks, she was so beautiful it made his heart ache.

“I love you, Killian,” she said quietly. “Always.”

“And I love you, Emma. I have no intention of letting you go.”

“I know.”

They remained that way, entwined in each other's arms until they fell asleep.

However, when Killian woke up, he was alone. And a piece of stained parchment lay beside him.

Emma was gone.

 


	9. Chapter 9

She felt heavy.

Heavy with guilt. Heavy with regret. Heavy with mourning. So heavy it threatened to overwhelm her, to choke her, to make her curl up on the side the barren road and pray for death.

But she'd have _that_ soon enough. She could only hope that when it came, the people who loved her could find some peace. For she would find none, of that she was certain.

The cool air bit at her tear streaked cheeks, making her grit her teeth in frustration. She was so sick of crying. But she couldn't seem to stop. All she'd done from the moment Smee had helped smuggle her off the  _Jolly Roger_ and into one of the boats was cry. She'd managed to maneuver the  _Jolly_ close to shore without arousing suspicion while Killian was recovering; she hated deceiving him, but she couldn't risk him. Emma was convinced this only ended one way and if Killian came with her, he would die. And she couldn't bear that. Couldn't bear having his light snuffed out from the world. She would rather he hate her and live, than come with her and die.

But she missed him fiercely. It was like a constant ache in her chest, weighing her down. She wanted hold him in her arms and never let go, wanted him keep the monsters at bay. But Emma had to face the consequences of her actions. They were hers and hers alone and she was the only one who could make it right. Perhaps Rumplestiltskin would be merciful. Perhaps he would see that she meant no harm or no disrespect and would leave her and her kingdom be.

Killian's words echoed in her head.  _He's a nasty piece of work, Emma._

No, Rumplestiltskin was not the kind to be merciful. He would exact his vengeance. She knew the price for her brief months of happiness would be her life.

* * *

“Emma.”

She whirled around, to afraid to hope. But her ears were not deceiving her.  _Killian._

She closed the distance between them at a run, jumping into his waiting arms. She covered his face in kisses, tears coursing down her cheeks. “How?” she asked, kissing his nose. “How are you here?”

“You didn't really think you'd get rid of me that easily, did you, lass?”

“I'm _so_ sorry, Killian.” She pressed her lips to his, and he opened for her easily, kissing her like it was the most important thing in the world. She held onto him tightly, still afraid he would disappear at any moment.

Gently, Killian laid her down, covering her body with his, settling in the cradle of her thighs. He kissed her slowly, deeply, like they had all the time in the world. He threaded their fingers together, squeezing her hand, once again her anchor.

Being with him after all this time...she couldn't help the desire that welled up in her. She wanted him so much, she'd always wanted him, from the moment she'd seen him. He was her love, her husband, her prince, her pirate and her body called out desperately for his.

“Killian...”

“I know, darling. I've got you.” Seemingly faster than she could blink, their clothes were gone; nothing but gloriously bare skin between them. Killian brushed some hair away from her face with his hook, staring deeply into her eyes as he thrust forward, taking her in one smooth motion.

Emma arched, a keening cry tumbling from her lips. She would never get over how perfect he felt, how he stretched and filled her. She felt  _full_ , complete, when he was inside her. She wished they could remain like this for the rest of their lives, making love until they were exhausted and sated. Then doing it again and again until the world finally ended.

Killian's strokes were deep and hard, his own need as great as hers. She wrapped her legs around his waist, a loud moan escaping as he slid even deeper into her. Emma dragged his lips back to hers, kissing him passionately, nipping at his lips. “Oh gods, Killian. I need you so much.”

He heeded her plea, changing the angle of his thrusts until she was crying out as he hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. She mewled in pleasure, her release coiling hotly in her stomach; she was so close, she was almost there...

Emma woke up with a groan. It was such a strange sensation, waking up incredibly turned on and yet completely heartsick because she knew she would never see Killian again. She almost wished she hadn't had sex with him before she left; perhaps it would have hurt less if she didn't have a fresh memory of what it was like to be with him. But no, she was certain it would hurt just as much. At least she'd gotten to hear him tell her how much he loved her before she'd left. That was something they hadn't had the first time. She carried that with her, his love and the love she had for him. No one, not even Rumplestiltskin, could take it away from her.

Emma jerked out of her makeshift bedroll when a wave of nausea came over her. She barely got her hair pulled back before she was heaving up the meager contents of her stomach. It was the second time in two days that she'd thrown up just after waking; she just assumed it was anxiety and nerves and fright. Each minute brought her closer to her reckoning with the Dark One.

She cleaned herself up and gathered her few belongings, tucking her little book of poems into her rucksack. It had been incredibly selfish to take it—it was the last connection Killian had to his family—but she couldn't help it. It was meant for the current Mrs. Jones and that was her. For as long as she remained breathing. It was the only thing that was keeping her from shattering completely.

Emma climbed back onto her horse, kicking it into a gallop. There was no sense in dawdling; she got closer to the Dark One's borders with every step. The sooner this was over, the better.

* * *

“Halt! Who does there?”

Emma reined in her horse. The poor beast was breathing heavily; she nearly ridden it to death in her haste. Gently, she patted its neck. “Hush now, it'll be okay,” she mumbled. Hopefully, someone would take it and feed it and let it have a long well earned rest. When the sentry called again, Emma glared.

“I'm here to see your master, Rumplestiltskin.”

The sentry and his shorter companion visibly flinched. Clearly, saying the Dark One's name was not something that was done around here. But Emma wasn't playing Rumplestiltskin's game. She wasn't afraid for herself. She was here to keep the people she loved safe.

“And you are?”

“Trust me...he'll want to see me.”

“Princess?”

Emma groaned inwardly. An unforeseen complication.

“Your highness, do you _know_ this girl?”

“Woman,” Emma snapped.

Baelfire cleared his throat. “Yes. This is Princess Emma, my betrothed.”

Things went downhill quickly after that. Instead of being ushered into Rumplestiltskin's presence, they carted her to the dungeon. Baelfire took her rucksack despite her protests, assuring her that her things would be safer with him. Emma had hoped that she could accomplish her mission without seeing her erstwhile fiancé, but obviously that was impossible. It may have been naive of her to think that, but she honestly hadn't given Baelfire a moment's thought since she ran away. He was such a non entity to her; her dismay and anger turned toward Rumplestiltskin rather than his son.

No one would tell her where Rumplestiltskin was or when she would see him. She spent an unknown amount of time in that dungeon, just waiting for someone to remember she was there. Surely, if the Dark One was as upset as he claimed, he'd have been made aware of her presence by now?

The longer she was away from Killian, the more time he had to find her, defeating the purpose of her flight to begin with. Where the hell was the imp?

“Princess?”

Emma raised her head; she hadn't been asleep, merely resting her eyes in the blackness. “Who is it?”

“It's Baelfire.”

“Oh.” She didn't move, disappointed yet again. How long were they going to keep her down here?

The shadowy form of Baelfire appeared the bars of her cell. Emma could only make out the outline of him in the dark, not that she was trying very hard. “You never wanted to marry me, did you?” His voice carried no ill will or recriminations, merely curious.

“No. I didn't. I'm sorry.”

Baelfire kicked lightly at the bars of the cell. “It never made sense to me. Why Papa insisted I get married, especially to someone I hardly knew. But I trusted he knew what was best, so I agreed. I thought perhaps one day...But I'm too late, aren't I?”

Emma nodded, even though she was sure he couldn't see in the dark any better than she could. “I never meant for any of this to happen. But I already love someone.”

“I think it's a bit more than that,” Baelfire said gently. Emma gasped sharply. “Forgive me, but I looked through some of your things. Who's Killian? Is he the man you love?”

“He's my husband. He's a pirate.”

Baelfire scowled. “A pirate killed my mother.”

Emma frowned. “What? When?” She didn't mean to come off as insensitive or harsh, but she didn't like what Baelfire was insinuating.

“When I was seven or eight, I don't remember exactly. My papa told me. He hates pirates.”

All the better that Killian was far from here then, Emma thought in relief. “You're a little older than me, right? Killian can't have been the pirate that killed your mother. He was still in the Navy then.”

“The Navy? How'd he become a pirate then?”

“It's a long story. And not mine to tell. Besides, Killian would never _murder_ anyone. I know him.”

“That's not what Papa says.”

Emma wondered if Baelfire ever had a thought that didn't begin with “Papa says.” She stood up and walked over to the barred door. “I came here to make things right. I'm sorry if I hurt you. I never meant to. I just want your father to leave my kingdom alone. Let him take his anger out on me.”

“Your kingdom? What are you talking about? _Your_ parents have been demanding to know if Papa knows where you are!”

“ _What?”_ Something was very not right here; Emma could sense it.

“I don't know! I just know that Papa said to bring you here when you arrived. But I wasn't to speak to you. I just...couldn't help it. I should go. He'll be angry if he finds out I disobeyed him.”

Every word he said made Emma more and more certain that something was very, very wrong. How could Rumplestiltskin  _know_ she was coming? Unless...her stomach lurched. It had all been a trap. And she'd walked right into it.  _Stupid._ She should have listened to Killian. Oh gods, she should have  _listened_ . Why didn't she listen?

Emma forced herself not to panic. This was just another tight spot. She could get out of it. She could. Then she'd find Killian, beg his forgiveness and let him take her  _home_ . Where they'd figure out just what to do. Emma was so distracted by her revelation that she didn't even notice Baelfire leave. Good riddance as far as she was concerned. She had to focus. Emma reached up into her hair, pulling on the pins that kept it in place. She smiled triumphantly when she found one long enough for what she needed. Now all she could do was wait for nightfall.

* * *

She crept along the the dark hallway, one hand against the wall to help give her some kind of guidance. It felt like she was in a maze, one where she couldn't see  _anything_ . Emma had managed to pick the lock to her cell shortly after nightfall, a skill Killian had taught her in her early days on the  _Jolly Roger_ . She felt a harsh pang of regret as she worked; she could be there with him right now if she'd just listened to him. Instead, she had been stubborn, convinced she was right, and now she was a prisoner.

But not for much longer if she had anything to say about it. She could only hope that when she found Killian he could find in him to forgive her.

The hallway didn't seem to have an end. And it was eerily quiet. Where was the dungeon in relation to the rest of the castle? It was impossible to tell. The only thing Emma could hear was the shuffling of her feet and the shallow harsh breaths she drew. Her eyes darted around, trying to pierce the blackness. She was on edge, heart beating wildly in her chest, painfully aware of her lack of weapon. But she had to try.

There was a faint popping sound—Emma tried to whirl around toward it—but a hand clamped down on her arm. Emma screamed, the sound swallowed in another pop. The next moment, Emma was blinded by the candlelight that flickered in front of her when she tried to open her eyes. It felt like she was laying down on something hard. She was confused and disoriented and frightened. Because she knew what had just happened. The nightmare. The very first nightmare after Randle's attack on her. It had come true.

“Leaving so soon, dearie?”

Her insides turned to ice. Rumplestiltskin.

“Were you accommodations not your liking, princess? Hard to find good help anymore.” Rumplestiltskin's sickening high pitched laugh cut through the air, forcing Emma to open her eyes, as white hot anger replaced her fear.

“What do you want, Rumplestiltskin?” She tried to sit up, but there were steel shackles on her legs and wrists. She shook them in frustration.

“Direct. I like that.” Rumplestiltskin circled around her like a predator, drinking her in with those reptilian eyes. There was a funny shaped wand in his hand. “I so hate that it came to this, dearie. You would have been such a bride for my son.”

“I'm already married.”

Rumplestiltskin scowled. “That is irrelevant to me now. Your new husband will be a widower soon enough. As one myself, perhaps I could counsel him.”

“Don't you dare go near him.”

Rumplestiltskin laughed. “Ah yes, that is why you came here, isn't it? To  _protect_ him. To protect so many people. So predictable, princess. Your mother would be proud.”

Emma rattled the chains again, trying to ignore the guilt she felt. “If you're going to kill me, why don't you just get it over with?”

“Who said I wanted to kill you?” The Dark One came to stop next to her, wand pressed between his long fingers. “No, I need something much more precious from you, princess. It may kill you. It may not.”

Emma's brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“It should have manifested by now. I blame those parents of yours. Always coddling you, instead of challenging you.” Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes. “Magic, my dear. What I want is your _magic._ ”

Emma laughed. The idea of her having magic was absurd. She was completely normal. Wasn't she? There was something about the way he looked at her that made her doubt it.

“I assure you, dearie, you have magic. Powerful magic. And I want it before it destroys me.”

Whatever the truth, Rumplestiltskin clearly believed in what he was saying. A shiver ran down her spine, as another realization washed over her. “I was never going to marry your son.”

Rumplestiltskin laughed that sickeningly sweet laugh again. “Oh, you would have. It would have been all nice and proper. I had hoped to  _control_ you and have your magic that way, perhaps pass it onto my grandchildren. But you thwarted that plan when you ran away.”

Again, the truth. Of all the times Emma wished her little ability  _didn't_ work, this took the cake. But the idea that she had magic was just too difficult to wrap her head around. “So you lured me here instead.”

“A far more difficult prospect than I originally envisioned since you burned all of your things. But I have my ways. Once I knew you were with the pirate, it was all too easy to set the trap.”

Emma's eyes widened, feeling supremely stupid. “The ship with the broken mast. That was  _you_ .” There had never been a letter from her father. Her kingdom wasn't in danger at all.  _Killian, I am so sorry._

“Indeed, among others. Now, enough chit chat. I have a ritual to perform.” Rumplestiltskin waved the wand over her and started to chant in a language she didn't know. The circle of candles floating around them flared to life, bathing her in an orange glow. She started struggling against her restraints again, but they wouldn't budge. She screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks, panic starting seize her heart. She would never see Killian again. Nor her parents. There was nothing she could do; she was trapped.

Then she heard Rumplestiltskin grunt. It was such an odd sound that she stopped struggling. She looked at him; he was holding the wand over her, his hand shaking. The wand was vibrating violently; something was wrong with the spell.

“I don't...understand,” the Dark One gritted out. “Why...isn't...it... _working_?”

He narrowed his eyes and started chanting louder, trying to will the spell to work. Emma glared. “I  _told_ you I didn't have magic.”

That got Rumplestiltskin's attention. He threw the wand away, breaking the spell. “No...no, there's something  _wrong_ with you. Something blocking the spell. I  _will_ find out what it is.” He ran his hand over her, not touching her, and Emma felt a strange tingle just under her skin. She was stunned when her stomach seemed to be  _glowing_ . “No. It can't be.”

“What? What is it?” Emma couldn't help the panic in her voice.

“You, dearie, are pregnant.” Rumplestiltskin scowled. “The pirate's welp is preventing me from taking what should rightfully be _mine!”_

Emma was stunned.  _Pregnant?_ Her? The pirate's welp...oh gods, she was having Killian's child. Suddenly things made sense, her mood swings, the nausea, the fatigue.  _She and Killian were having a baby_ . It was insane, given the circumstances, but Emma found herself smiling, the greatest joy she'd ever known filling her heart. She, Emma, was going to have a child with the man she loved with her whole soul. What was more joyous than that?

Rumplestiltskin brought her crashing back to reality in a rush. He looked down at her with rage filled eyes. “I should have killed you when I had the chance. But no matter.” Emma hardly had time to draw a breath when he plunged his hand into her chest. She knew what he was going to do; her mother had told her about how Regina took people's hearts and crushed them. Rumplestiltskin was going to kill her. Her and her child.

_No._

There was a brilliant flash and Rumplestiltskin shot away from her like a loosed cannon ball. Emma looked around wildly, trying to figure out what happened, when she realized she was no longer restrained. As she stared at her wrist, it dawned on her.  _Magic_ . She had done it, whatever it was. It had come from inside her.

Emma shook off her shock and swung her legs over the side of the stone table on which she'd been restrained. She hopped off and started running again, not caring where Rumplestiltskin was; all that mattered was getting out of there. But she was brought up short...by Baelfire.

“What's going on? Where's my father?”

“I don't know. There was this flash...and,” Emma said hesitantly, not sure how much she should reveal to the son of the Dark One.

“ _And?”_ he demanded.

“I don't know! But you have to let me go.”

“Why? What happened?!”

“ _I don't know!”_

“No one's leaving until I get some _answers_.”

There was no way Emma was letting anything stand between her and getting back to Killian. She curled her hand into a fist, bringing it up and swinging with all her might. Baelfire dropped like a sack of potatoes to the hard floor and Emma stepped over him, hand stinging. She hauled the huge doors open and ran, knowing she needed to find a way out before the Dark One found her.

She got turned around several times, costing her precious seconds. The whole castle seemed to be a maze with no rhyme or reason to its layout. It looked like maybe, just  _maybe_ , she'd found the right way when a poof of purple smoke brought her skidding to a halt.

“You really didn't think you could escape from _here_ , did you, dearie?” Rumplestiltskin sneered.

Emma threw out her hands—she had magic, damn it, she should be able to  _do_ something—but nothing happened.

“You have the magic, princess. But you can't control it, can you? No matter. You won't have it for long.”

_Do not let him see your fear,_ she reminded herself. “I thought you couldn't take it...that's why the spell didn't work.”

“The spell didn't work because of your...delicate condition. But you won't have the parasite forever. I can be patient.”

Emma stuck out her chin defiantly. “Go ahead, lock me up. I still won't give you what you want.”

“Oh, I won't be locking you up.” Rumplestiltskin shook his head. “No, I've got a much more...shall we say, _secure_ fate for you. One you won't be walking away from. Especially if you want the father of your little brat to live.”

When Rumplestiltskin held up the spinning needle, Emma knew what was coming. How many times had her mother told her the story as she fell asleep? An apple, a curse, a glass coffin, a room filled with fire. But there would be no one to rescue her. Emma knew she had no choice. Without control of her new found magic, there was no way she could defeat the Dark One.

* * *

Hundreds of miles away on the  _Jolly Roger,_ Killian Jones clutched at his chest.  _Emma._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points if you can figure out the other times (besides the nightmare) where Emma inadvertently did magic!


	10. Chapter 10

It felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest.

Killian had heard of such things. That the heart could removed and crushed, killing someone instantly. He had never seen it. But if this was what it felt like, then he never wanted to see it.

It was worse than when Liam had died. Because Liam's death had been _final_. His brother was gone from the world and there was no way to bring him back. Emma, on the other hand, was _out_ there, somewhere, and had _left_ him. He was sure she had her reasons, but they should be dealing with this _together_. But she hadn't trusted him enough, hadn't loved him enough to let him come with her. He'd follow her to the ends of the world, but it seemed that she didn't feel the same. He wanted to hate her so much for leaving, for not giving them a chance, but he couldn't. Killian could never hate the one he loved so much.

He stood at the helm, like he had for seeming hours now, unsure of what to  _do_ . His instincts told him to go after her, to find her and make her see reason. That they could get through this. But she'd asked him not to. She knew that's what he would want to do and she'd made it clear she didn't want him to follow her. Yet Killian couldn't shake the feeling that wherever she was, Emma needed him.

“Cap'n?”

Killian sighed heavily. He still hadn't forgiven his first mate for helping Emma off the ship. “What is it, Mr. Smee?”

“Um, sir, this...bird arrived. I think it's looking for the princess.”

Killian's brow knitted in irritation. Another reminder that Emma wasn't where she belonged, at his side. “And what am I supposed to do with some bloody bird that's lost its way?”

“Well, there's a message attached, sir. It has the princess's seal.”

Killian frowned, snatching the bird—a dove in this case—from Smee and tucking it carefully under his arm to untie the message. As soon as the scroll fell into the palm of his hand, the bird flew off, its mission completed.

Killian shooed Smee away, then broke the seal on the scroll. His hands were shaking. What if it was from her parents? What if it was from  _her?_ Telling him she never wanted to see him again or worse, that she was dead and gone from the world.  _Only one way to find out._ He took a deep steadying breath and unrolled the message. As he read it, he didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

_Dearest Emma,_

_You can imagine our relief when we received your message. Your father has been searching everywhere for you, while I remain here hoping against hope that you'll come home. He blames himself, even though I am just as much to blame. For not fighting harder for your happiness. For that we are sorry._

_I understand your reluctance to see us. We behaved abominably and rightly deserve your censure. But please, Emma. We just want to know that you are truly happy. If you've found such happiness with the...pirate...well, I trust your judgment, Emma. As much as it pains me to admit it, you have grown to become a wonderful and astute young woman. You are no longer my little girl and your life is your own._

_If you can find it in you to forgive us, please come. We'll be at the tavern in Cornwall on Tuesday next. A neutral site away from prying eyes, where you can bring your pirate. I'd like to get to know him better. I promise your father will be on his best behavior._

_Please Emma. We miss you and we love you._

_With hope,_

_Mother_

Killian must have read the blasted message nearly twenty times, hoping to make some sense out of it. The sentiments were not unlike those in the King's letter they had intercepted a few days ago. Gods, had it only been a few days? It felt like a lifetime ago. But there was no mention of the Dark One or his attack on their kingdom. It was very strange. Was it a trick? Were they in trouble, already under the Dark One's control? Emma was already gone, but something definitely wasn't right. Nothing added up. Killian warred with himself for a long time. He couldn't shake the feeling that Emma needed him. Maybe this was what it was? To look after her parents, to let them know what had become of her. Why did he even care? The King and Queen had sentenced Killian to death; he owed them nothing. In fact, if he showed up without Emma, they'd probably arrest him or kill him on the spot. And without Emma, he just might let them.

_She would want you to go_ , the voice that sounded suspiciously like Emma reminded him.  _You need to find out the truth._

Killian rolled up the message and shoved it in his pocket. “Mr. Smee!” he called.

The still half frightened man came running. “Yes, Cap'n?”

“What day is it?”

“Monday, I believe, sir.”

Monday. They could be to Cornwall by tomorrow afternoon. Then perhaps he could get some answers.

* * *

The tavern was much cleaner than the establishments Killian was used to frequenting. Which was to be expected, considering the royalty that awaited him. He came armed, just in case. He didn't think Emma's absence was going to earn him any favors, but as he'd thought about it in his bunk the night before...he realized he had common ground with the King and Queen. They all wanted Emma to be happy. Surely, they would agree that Emma's chosen course was  _not_ a happy one.

He looked around the tavern, his blue eyes seeking the green ones that looked so like Emma's. He found them in a far corner, a hood almost completely obscuring the Queen's face. Her husband sat next to her nursing a tankard of ale. They seemed nervous.  _Now or never, Jones._

Killian strode across the room, plucking a tankard of his own off one of the bar wench's trays. When she huffed at him, he tossed her an extra copper to make amends. In laws or not, he was still a pirate, albeit an honorable one.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked quietly, stopping in front of the little table.

Snow White's green eyes locked with his, then flickered behind him curiously, hopefully. She visibly deflated when she realized Emma wasn't there.

King David had no such restraint. “Where is our daughter, pirate?”

Killian sat on the bench across from the royal couple. “Might want to say that a little louder, mate. I don't think they heard you in Neverland.”

Snow placed a hand on her husband's arm. “You'll have to forgive my husband, Captain. It's been...difficult since Emma ran away.”

“Aye. That is a feeling I know all too well.”

David swallowed, trying to regain control of his temper. “What would you know about family, pirate?”

Killian scowled. “As you're Emma's father, I'll let that particular insinuation go, your highness. But I'd warn you not to test my patience again.”

“David,” Snow said warningly. She turned back to Killian. He could see the strain that Emma's flight had put on her. The Queen was still beautiful, despite the worry lines around her eyes and mouth, the dark circles under those green eyes. He could see so much of Emma in her face; it made his chest ache. “Please, Captain. We just wish to speak to her. We need to know she's alright.”

Killian took a long pull from his tankard, steeling himself. This was not going to be pleasant. “I would love to accommodate you, your majesty. But Emma's not here.”

“Not here? Is she on your ship? Is very angry with us?” Snow sounded on the edge of panic. David put a protective arm around her, the hood slipping down.

“Emma was never angry with you, highness.” Killian smiled at the memory of Emma's defiance. “Okay, perhaps a little. She just didn't understand why her parents, who had found love for themselves were _forcing_ her to marry someone she didn't love.”

“And you're saying she loves _you_? A _pirate?_ ” David spat.

“You were a shepherd, if memory serves,” Killian retorted.

David looked shocked. “How did you...?”

“Emma told me. She told me all about your story. How it inspired her, how much she wanted that for herself.” Killian looked away, pain lancing through his chest. “I want what you want. I just want to make her happy.”

Snow frowned. “What's happened, Captain?”

“Emma's gone. She slipped off my ship almost two days ago. I think...” Killian swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. “I think she's gone to the Dark One.”

“The Dark One? _Why?”_

“We found this on board a merchant ship almost a week ago.” Killian pulled out the letter that Emma had left, the one from her father. As he watched the King and Queen read it, his worst fears were confirmed. The letter was a forgery. A very cleverly written forgery. Written with just enough truth to make it seem real.

“I didn't write this,” David said, a bit helplessly. “I mean, it _sounds_ like me, but I didn't write _this._ ”

“So you're not ready to welcome the pirate into the family?” Killian said, his biting tone giving away his anxiety. Emma was still alive. He'd _know_ if she were dead. He would. Even from where she jumped ship, it would still take some time to get to the Dark One's castle overland.

David moved faster than Killian would have given him credit for, given the king's age. The dagger pierced Killian's sleeve right next to his brace. “How do we know  _you_ didn't just make all this up? How do we know that Emma's not dead already?”

Killian didn't move or back down, just staring the King in the eye. Killian could see the concern for Emma, the guilt that drove the King and made him a bit irrational. “Do you know why I became a pirate, mate?” When David didn't answer, Killian continued. “A king, much like you, ordered me and my brother to procure a poison to fight his enemies. Only we were told it was healing plant, that we would be  _saving lives._ When that poison killed my brother,  _my captain_ , I swore vengeance. I took our Navy's flagship and turned her into a pirate ship, unwilling to rest until those responsible for my brother's death paid dearly. It consumed my life, nearly bloody destroyed me, until I met Emma. She brought me back, reminded me of who I once was. I'm not asking you to trust me, your highness. I'm asking you to trust  _her.”_

David stared at Killian with wide eyes, as if seeing the pirate for the first time. Slowly, he pulled back, bringing the dagger with him. “I had a brother, a twin. You would have liked him, I think.”

“Was he devilishly handsome like me?”

David smiled ruefully. “No, more like selfish and out for himself.”

“I guess we'll just have to see about that.” Killian couldn't force David to trust him. He couldn't will the King to believe that he loved Emma with all his heart and would die before he saw any harm come to her. The only thing he could do was show him.

Snow looked between them, wondering if she needed to step in and soothe egos. When both men settled into an uneasy silence, she spoke. “You're going after her, aren't you?”

Killian nodded. “Yes. She asked me not to, but I think we both know how stubborn Emma can be.” He'd been right. He  _did_ like Snow, when she wasn't ordering his death.

Snow smiled ruefully. “Yes, she is that. We're coming with you.”

“Milady, I'm not sure that's a good...”

“We're her parents,” Snow cut in firmly. “We made a terrible mistake and we— _I_ —want the chance to make it right. And I think you'll find I'm rather good at sneaking into places.”

Killian considered that. He was sure now that Emma was headed to the Dark One's palace. She'd told him as much when they'd quarreled. Breaking in would be no small feat. And they had just as much right to go after their daughter as he did. “Very well. We'll take the  _Jolly_ as close as we can.”

“Sailing? Are you sure that's wise?” David cut in.

Killian bristled at the implied insult. “She's made of enchanted wood, mate. Fastest ship in all the realms. It might be our only chance to beat her there.”

“Whatever you think is best, Captain,” Snow said, getting to her feet.

“Snow, you can't seriously be considering this,” David argued.

“I'm going, David. You can stay if want.” It looked like it pained her to say it; Killian took it that the couple didn't quarrel often. Much like he and Emma.

“That's not what I meant.”

Snow's face softened. “This is the life our daughter chose,” she said gently. “We have to trust that we raised her as best we could and that she knows what she wants. I...I don't want my baby to hate us forever, David.”

A silent tear slipped down the Queen's cheek. Killian got up, looking away as her husband stood and hugged her close. “We raise anchor in a half hour,” he said quietly to David. He saw the other man nod curtly, his face a mask of pain and sadness. Killian exited the tavern and headed straight for the  _Jolly,_ ignoring the dull throb in his leg. He began giving orders as soon as he stepped on board, to prepare for their guests and the upcoming journey.

Twenty five minutes later, Snow and David stepped up the gangplank, each with a pack and bedroll. Snow had a bow and full quiver, while David carried a broadsword. If Killian hadn't known better, he would have taken them for a simple village couple. There was no trace of royalty in the way they were dressed.

“I haven't worn this in _years_ ,” Snow said apologetically. “I'm surprised it still fits.”

“Even dressed like a bandit, you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen,” David replied fondly.

Seeing them together, knowing that Emma should be here with them, with  _him_ , made Killian's heart clench. Because he felt the same way about his princess that David felt about his. Maybe one day he and the King could come to some kind of understanding.

Snow squeezed David's hand, then turned to Killian. “Now, Captain, is there anything else you need from us? Anywhere we need to be? Or do?”

“No, milady. Now that you're aboard, I'll have the crew shove off. Let me just...” He got cut off by a seizing pain in his chest, right where his heart was. Killian staggered, hand pressed to his chest. It was agony, worse than when he'd lost his hand.

Only one word flashed in his mind.  _Emma._

Killian barely registered Snow kneeling beside him, hand skimming his forehead for fever. Just as quickly as it came, the pain was gone. But it left an echo, a hollowness in it wake.

“What the bloody hell was _that_?”

“I know.” It was David, looking grim. Killian locked eyes with the King and knew he wouldn't like his next words. “It's Emma. She's been put under a sleeping curse.”

Next to Killian, Snow let out a soft anguished gasp. “David, are you  _sure?”_

The King looked at his wife apologetically. “The same thing happened to me when Regina asked you to eat the apple. And I just  _knew_ something had happened to you. Something bad.”

“You never told me.”

“Well, I woke you up. It didn't seem important anymore.”

Killian staggered to his feet, grabbing the King by the collar.  _“What. Is. Going. On. With. Emma?”_

“What's going on, _pirate_ , is that my daughter's been _cursed_ by Rumplestiltskin,” David spat. “And if you feel the way I pray you do, then _you_ are the only one who can save her.”

* * *

It had been nearly two days since they'd left Cornwall. Nearly forty eight hours of agony. But the  _Jolly_ was going as fast as she could; not even the fastest ship in all the realms could  _teleport_ . He'd been such a fool to think they had  _time_ to catch up to Emma before she did something rash. She must have stolen horses all the way from where she'd come ashore to Rumplestiltskin's domain. Killian cursed his detour to treat with her parents; if he'd just gone after her, he might have been able to reach her in time.

But then, he'd have been going in blind. The Dark One was the most powerful sorcerer in the Enchanted Forest; everyone lived in fear of him. He had no idea what the Dark One wanted with Emma, but it had to be a good sign that she'd just been cursed, as opposed to murdered like Killian had originally feared. That was until Snow had explained about the effects of the sleeping curse. It gave the appearance of death from the outside, but inside...it was a netherworld filled with fire and pain. And it could only be invoked  _willingly._ That meant, Emma had done it on purpose. Rumplestiltskin could only have invoked the most compelling of threats to ensure Emma did what he wanted. And Killian was under know illusions as to what that threat had been.

“I _will_ find you, Emma,” Killian swore quietly, standing in the bow of his ship. “I will bring you home, Dark One be damned.”

“You really do love her, don't you?”

Killian turned; David stood a short distance away, hand on the hilt of his sword. “Come to challenge me to a duel, mate?”

“You didn't answer my question.”

“Aye. I love her. More than I ever thought possible.”

“Why didn't you let her come home?”

“Highness, I think you and I both know that Emma doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do. When she found that letter, I begged her to let me take her home, that we would find you and work this out. If at any point, she'd have asked to return to you, I would have brought her to you. She was afraid of what your reaction would be.”

For a moment, Killian thought the King would start crying, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. “I'm counting you, pirate. Be the hero she thinks you are.”

_A hero's journey_ . That's what he'd said to Liam when they'd gone after the Dreamshade. Perhaps he'd been right after all, it had just taken longer than he'd expected. And this time, he wouldn't fail.

* * *

They crept through the forest, weapons raised. To Killian's surprise, the Queen insisted that she be allowed to lead, as she had the most experience in tracking and scouting. Killian thought about arguing, but after seeing that steely jade glare, so like Emma's, he'd relented. And been pleasantly surprised. Emma had told him about her mother, the princess turned bandit. But it was another thing to see her in action. The years had not diminished her skills; she moved silently through the forest, much like a cat. David and Killian followed in her wake, mindful of twigs and the falling autumn leaves. Killian's leg was throbbing dulling, but he ignored it. He wasn't still quite fully healed from his encounter with the arrow, but he had to be strong. Emma was counting on him.

Snow White held up her hand, signaling for them to stop. The three of them waited with baited breath for whatever it was that had made the Queen pause. Through the underbrush, Killian could just make out a patrol of about five men, all wearing the Dark One's livery. Once they passed, Snow urged them forward, the castle looming ahead of them.

The foundations were coated in ivy, hanging thickly from the walls, clearly meant to cover a hidden entrance of some kind. It was a tactic Killian had seen before.

“So where's the door?” he asked quietly.

“How do you know...” David began, but he got cut off by his wife.

“There's a door,” she said, equally quietly. “This castle used to belong to a friend of my father's, King Edward. The Dark One took it over when the old king died without an heir.”

“ _That's_ how he became all high and mighty,” Killian grumbled.

“Indeed,” Snow agreed. “If I remember correctly, the door is this way.” She led them to the left, occasionally pausing to part the ivy in search of the mysterious door.

“Snow, are you _sure_?” David asked. “I mean, you were a child then...”

She glared at her husband, who promptly closed his mouth. Killian could sense the anxiety coming from the King; he felt it too. Every moment he thought about Emma in that hellish fiery room, he felt like he was going to throw up. She's done that for  _him_ , he knew she did. Threatening loved ones was a classic tactic, something Killian had indulged in in the past. It made him sick to his stomach now.

“Here it is.” All three of them stopped. Snow and David carefully pulled the ivy away, revealing the heavy oak door. Killian reached for the handle, but the Queen yanked back on his hand. “It's probably booby trapped. Let me.” She drew her bow, knocking an arrow. The Queen stepped back a few paces, drew the arrow back expertly and let it fly. The door erupted in magical flames, which would have burned them alive.

“Thank you, highness,” Killian said.

Snow gave him a rueful smile. “At some point, you're going to have to start calling me Snow.” David huffed behind her derisively. Killian decided that this wasn't really the time to tell them about the  _other_ title Killian could be calling them. That could wait until they saved Emma.

Killian reached out again for the door, turning the knob. It was locked. He jammed his hook into the mechanism; there was no finesse, just brute force as he pried it open. Turning the knob again, the door swung open, admitting them to the darkness.

“Do you think we should split up?” David asked as the door closed behind them.

“No, that would just give Rumplestiltskin the chance to pick us off one by one, mate,” Killian said.

“Is there someone there?” a somewhat timid voice called. “Please. Help me.”

Killian was tempted to ignore it—it could be a trap, after all—but David was already lighting a torch. As the King got closer to the sound of the voice, he stopped short. “Baelfire?”

“K-k-king David?” the young man asked incredulously. “What are you doing here?”

“We're here to rescue my daughter Emma. Do you know where she is?”

Baelfire shook his head. “I'm...not sure. She punched me. She begged me to let her go and when I wouldn't she punched me!”

“Good for her,” Killian said, stepping into the light. “Now tell us everything you know about my princess and _maybe_ we'll consider helping you.”

Baelfire stepped back, disgusted. “You're a  _pirate.”_

“Observant,” Killian said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were going to marry your only daughter to _this_ , Dave?”

David looked like he wanted to slug Killian for the informal address, but then thought better of it. Snow stepped between them. “Have you seen Emma, Baelfire?” she asked kindly, but determined. “We just want to bring her home.”

“I'm not answering anything around _him_.” The young man gestured violently at Killian. “Pirates can't be trusted.”

Killian's patience snapped, his jaw clenching. “As Emma's  _husband_ , I assure you I  _can_ be trusted.  _Now where is my wife?”_

Both Snow and David looked stunned. “Did you say  _wife?”_ David exclaimed.

Killian ignored them. It was not his preferred way of them finding out, but the longer Emma was under the Dark One's curse, the more angry and scared he got. He  _had_ to find her and bring her back.

“ _You're_ her husband? She told me about you.” Killian merely raised an impatient brow at the young man, waiting for him to continue. “I don't know where she is exactly. She showed up here and I brought her to the dungeons as my father asked. I wasn't supposed to talk to her, but I couldn't help myself. Later, I found out the she had escaped and went looking for her and my father. I found them in the vault, the one I'm usually forbidden to enter. She pleaded with me to let her go and when I didn't, she hit me. I don't know what happened after that. I woke up down here.”

“We have reason to believe your father put Emma under a sleeping curse.”

Baelfire shook his head. “No. He wouldn't do that.”

“Just like he wouldn't lock his own son up?” Killian shot back.

“I...I...” But Baelfire appeared to be at a loss for words. Killian knew it was hard to have the image you had of your father shattered right in front of your eyes. What it felt like to have that father betray you, his own flesh and blood. But he had more important things to worry about.

“Can you help us get to that vault, Baelfire?”

The young man's eyes flitted between the three of them for a few moments, then he nodded. Killian worked the lock on his cell, freeing him. He silently decided to keep an eye on the boy, still not certain this wasn't some elaborate ruse by the Dark One.

The quartet left the dungeons, Baelfire leading, through the maze that was the Dark One's castle. They saw hardly anyone, which struck Killian as suspicious. Although, who would  _willingly_ visit the Dark One? It didn't seem like he kept much in the way of staff either. What could have it been like to grow up in such an environment? No wonder Baelfire seemed like such a sniveling whiny brat. Which, incidentally, was also why Killian didn't really trust him.

“You _married_ her?” David hissed as they crept through the hall, pulling Killian out of his thoughts.

“Is this really the place you want to have this conversation, mate?”

“I can't believe it.”

“Well, believe it. I'm a ship captain and can marry anyone I like.”

“You're a _pirate_.”

Killian rounded on David. “I asked Emma to marry me because I want to spend my life with her. I know this may be a difficult concept for you to grasp, but she said yes. Feel free to take it up with her once we've saved her, my  _lord.”_

David's jaw clenched. “I should have been there.”

“If it makes you feel better, she wanted you there.”

Killian turned back around, moving quickly to catch up to the others. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard David following him. He didn't have the patience to deal with the man's bruised ego right now.

Baelfire stopped in front of a large oaken door. “This is it.” The young man was shaking, clearly the stress was getting to him. Stress from fear of his father's wrath or stress from trying not to get caught...well, that remained to be seen.

Killan and David both drew their swords. “That was far too easy.”

“I agree,” David replied.

Baelfire scowled. “Do you want my help opening the door or not?”

“Go ahead,” Snow said encouragingly.

Baelfire nodded and reached one of Snow's arrows. Killian eyes him suspiciously, watching as he pricked his finger with the tip and brushed it against the stone. Nothing happened.

“I don't understand. It's supposed to work...”

“Looks like Papa took away your key,” Killian snarked, getting more and more anxious.

“We should all try,” Snow said briskly. She promptly repeated the gesture with her own finger, but the door remained firmly closed. Not until Killian pressed his bloody palm to the door did it open.

“Bloody hell...” It made no sense, but he wasn't about to argue. He stepped through the door, Snow and David following. No sooner were all three of them inside, than the door snapped closed. “I _knew_ it. I knew that boy would betray us!”

“I could have sworn he was right behind me,” David argued. But he was interrupted by his wife.

“Captain,” Snow said quietly. “Look.”

Killian turned his eyes to where Snow was pointing. Up on a dais, under a halo of light, lay Emma. She looked peaceful, her head laying on a soft purple pillow, her shirt and breeches replaced by a golden gown. All he had to do was get to her and she'd be with him again.

Killian was moving before he could even think. He ran across the vault, weaving through Rumplestiltskin's collection as if his life depended on it. Until he was abruptly brought to a halt, unable to move a muscle.

“The knight has come to rescue his princess, I see,” a voice that could be none other than Rumplestiltskin said. “I've been expecting you, Captain.”

Killian felt the force that was holding him loosen, just enough for him to speak. “Fight me fair, demon,” he spat.

“Ah, yes.” Suddenly, Rumplestiltskin appeared in front of him. Killian tried to flinch, but couldn't. The green scaly look of the monster unsettling, even to him. “You and your precious _good form_. I've heard all about that.”

“It's always nice to make an impression.”

“Yes, well, we'll see just how good your _impression_ is, Captain. If you can defeat me, I'll let you have your princess.”

“Killian!” Snow shouted. “Don't!” Killian caught sight of Snow and David prowling around them in a circle, weapons raised, even though they would be useless against the imp. But Killian knew he didn't have any other choice.

“Very well. _Crocodile._ ” He looked at Emma one last time, just in case. No matter what happened, he couldn't bring himself to regret the decisions that brought him here. Emma was worth it.

Abruptly, Killian could move again, nearly losing his balance as he regained the use of his body. He turned wildly, searching for the Dark One, who reappeared in a purple puff of smoke, armed this time with a sword.

“Shall we, dearie?”

The imp moved faster than Killian could blink; he parried the blow just in time. Rumplestiltskin was stronger than he expected—fueled by magic no doubt—and not unskilled with a blade. How much of that was the man and how much was the magic was anybody's guess. It was all Killian could do to keep up; still, he was slowly giving ground, doing just enough to keep the blade away from his throat. His bad leg hindered him, made it more difficult to change direction. He could see David and Snow out of the corner of his eye, looking worried.

“Don't interfere!” he shouted at them. “He'll kill Emma if you do!”

“Wise advice, pirate,” Rumplestiltskin sing songed.

Swords clashed and clanged, sparks flying, as they went back and forth. Killian got the impression that Rumplestiltskin was merely toying with him, waiting for just the right moment to finish him. Killian surged forward, spinning on his heel, coat twirling, raining down blows thick and fast, trying desperately to find an opening. To his surprise, he found one, plunging the sword directly into the Dark One's heart.

Snow White screamed.

Killian looked down and saw Rumplestiltskin's arm sticking out of his chest; he could suddenly  _feel_ the fingers squeezing his heart.

“No mortal weapon can kill me, pirate,” Rumplestiltskin spat. “As for you on the other hand...”

Killian screamed in pain as fingers squeezed his heart once again. He could vaguely hear Snow and David yelling, pleading, not for  _his_ life, but for Emma's, knowing that Killian was the only person who could wake her from the curse.

“No, I prefer the princess right where she is. And when the time comes, I'll have what is _mine_.”

Killian sucked in a breath, his last thoughts of Emma.  _I'm so sorry I failed you, my love. Forgive me._

“ _STOP!”_

Four heads turned to look. Baelfire stepped into the circle, looking a bit frightened but determined. Killian felt Rumplestiltskin's grasp on his heart loosen a fraction as the imp watched his boy, a look of astonishment on his face.

“Bae...son, what are you doing?”

“Something I should have done a long time ago. Let him go, Papa.”

“I'm doing this for _us,_ son. You have to trust me.”

Baelfire shook his head. “No, Papa. You're doing this for  _you_ . Look at these people! All they want is the person they love back. Wouldn't you want the same if it were  _me?_ I trusted you. But you...you didn't trust  _me_ , Papa. Please. I'm begging you. Let him go.”

Rumplestiltskin took a step back and suddenly Killian could  _breathe_ again. He stood up, backing as far away from the Dark One as he could. Baelfire walked up to his father and hugged him tightly. “I'm sorry, Papa. I hope one day you can forgive me.”

“Oh, Bae...” Rumplestiltskin tried to move, but he was encased in an ethereal glow. _“Bae! What have you done?”_

Baelfire turned to Killian. “Go now. I'm not sure how long the squid ink will hold him.  _Go.”_

Killian stared at them for only a heartbeat longer, then ran. He ran up to the dais, coming up short at the slab on which Emma lay. “I love you, Emma,” he whispered, his good hand skimming over the apple of her cheek. He leaned over her and gently pressed his lips to hers, praying that their love was strong enough.

He staggered back at the rush of magic, almost tripping. He righted himself and dashed back up the steps. “Emma...”

Her eyelids fluttered for a moment, then she saw him, green clashing with blue. “You came for me,” she said, awestruck.

“Does that surprise you?”

Emma smiled. “No.”

Killian closed the gap, kissing her again and again, even though there was no longer a curse to be broken. He never wanted to be without her again.

* * *

“You should come with us,” Snow White said.

Baelfire shook his head. “I may be the only person who can try and reason with him. I'm through running, now that I see him for what he really is.”

“Just...be careful,” Snow said worriedly. “But if not...our home is always open to you.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank you, Baelfire. I _will_ find some way to repay you,” Killian said, arm wrapped tightly around Emma.

“Just be good to each other, alright?”

“Emma, Captain? We need to get going,” David called.

“You heard the man, love,” he whispered to Emma. Killian nodded once more at Baelfire, before helping Emma onto the horse. He climbed up after her, wanting her where he could see her. Killian nodded smartly at David and the three horses took off up the trail, toward the _Jolly Roger_ and home.

* * *

When they got back to the ship, Killian reluctantly released Emma into the custody of her parents while he put them out to sea. He set a course for Emma's kingdom; there was no reason to avoid it any longer. And after her ordeal, he thought she'd like to spend time somewhere familiar. He had no idea what would happen now. Now that her parents knew about them, and could hardly deny what Killian and Emma meant to each other...what did the future hold? Killian didn't know; all he really cared about right then was having Emma back in his arms as quickly as possible.

He left the helm in the charge of Mr. Smee and went down to where Emma sat with her parents. She was a bit red in the face and had that stubborn look she got when she was angry.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, putting his hand and hook on Emma's shoulders.

“Everything's fine,” Emma said tiredly. “But I think Ishould go change, maybe get some sleep. I'm exhausted.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Emma hugged each of her parents—David's hug was a little stiff—and took Killian's hand. He followed her wordlessly, shutting the door firmly when they got to their cabin. He shrugged off his coat, tossing it carelessly aside. Once they were finally alone, he wrapped her tightly in his arms and kissed her the way he's wanted to every since she'd woken up.

“Gods, love. You bloody well nearly scared me to death. Please don't ever do anything like that again,” he mumbled between kisses, holding her firmly to his chest. “I can't lose you.”

Emma looked up at him apologetically. “I'm sorry, Killian. I am  _so_ sorry. I was stupid and naive. I should have listened to you.”

She looked so sad and worried, as if afraid that he wouldn't forgive her. “Darling, you have a good heart, a kind heart. You did what you felt was right. It took a lot of courage to face the Dark One like that.”

“But it was all a trick.”

“ _He_ took advantage of your kindness, your compassion. That is _not_ your fault.” Gently, Killian guided them to the desk chair, where he drew her into his lap. “What did he want with you anyway? He said when the time was right he'd get what was his. Most curious.”

Emma swallowed uncomfortably, not looking him in the eye. “Emma, look at me.” She obeyed. “You know you can tell me anything. I'll love you just the same.”

“Rumplestiltskin says I have magic.”

“ _What?”_

“That's what my reaction was. But...but it's true, Killian.” She paused, as if searching for the right words. “That's what he wanted to do...take my magic. He chained me to a table and did a spell, only it didn't work. So he got angry and...oh gods, he tried to take my heart.” Killian's jaw clenched as he hugged her close, knowing exactly what that felt like.

“But you're...alright. Here in front of me, healthy and whole.”

“Only because I...did something. Killian, I don't know what it was. There was this burst of light and then he was _gone_ , thrown away from me somehow.” She paused again. “Whatever it was destroyed the shackles too. I tried to run, but Baelfire...he wouldn't get out my way.”

“Aye, he told us about that. I'd say you acquitted yourself quite well there, lass.”

“Not that it did much good. His father found me shortly after. And gave me a choice.”

“My life or the sleeping curse,” Killian finished for her. “Oh love, I'm so sorry you went through that for me.”

Emma caught his face in her hands. “It was worth it.  _You're_ worth it.” She pressed her lips to his. “And our child it worth it.”

She'd said it so softly, he thought he was hearing things. “Our  _what?”_

“I was going to wait to tell you, but...I don't want to waste anymore time. We're going to have a baby, Killian.”

Killian didn't think he'd ever been more stunned in his life. It had been something they'd talked about—and done nothing to  _prevent—_ but the reality was...more overwhelming than he'd imagined. He was going to be a  _father_ .

“Killian?” Emma asked, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Please say something. You're scaring me.”

He shook his head to clear it, finally focusing on her with a huge smile on his face. “I love you, Emma. Gods, I love you so much.” Abruptly, he got to his feet, keeping her firmly in his arms and spun her around, a joyous laugh tumbling from his lips.

Emma smiled in relief, laughing right along with him. When he stilled, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You know, for a minute there, I was a bit worried about how you felt. About the baby.”

“Just a bit overwhelmed is all.” He sat them back in the chair, brushing a kiss across her forehead. “Is it really true? Am I going to be a father, Emma?”

“When Rumplestiltskin tried to take my magic, the spell didn't work. Our baby protected me. Plus I have all the signs; I was too worried about the Dark One to see them for what they were. But I'm really pregnant.”

Killian leaned his forehead against hers. “I can't believe I nearly lost you.  _Both_ of you.”

“I'm never leaving you again.”

“Good, I wouldn't want to have to chain you to the bed, love.”

Emma gave him a mischievous grin, squirming a bit in his lap, causing his blood to run _south_. “Oh I don't know. That idea might have some merit.”

Killian gave her a weary grin of his own. “Perhaps another time, darling. We have the little one to think of now.” This was completely uncharted territory for him.

“I'm not an expert, but I think we'll be good for a while, a few months at least.” Emma leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. “I missed you, Killian.”

Killian let out a slightly strangled moan, knowing exactly what she was doing. And _gods,_ he had missed her. Missed everything about her. She squirmed even more in his lap, her lips brushing over his jaw. “Emma, love...”

“I dreamt about you,” she said, lips next to his ear now. “I wanted you so much. I should never have left you. Let me make it up to you, Killian.”

A shiver ran down his spine. He tangled his hand in her hair, dragging her lips back to his, kissing her thoroughly. “Gods, yes,” he murmured. He wanted to take care of her, keep her wrapped in his arms and never let her go. But he needed this as well, needed to feel her touch. This was the way they communicated best.

Killian curled his hooked arm around her waist, pulling her closer, urging her to straddle his hips in the narrow chair. Her golden dress bunched around her thighs as she pressed her body against his. Killian buried his face in her chest, kissing and sucking at soft swells of her breasts. He was sure it was far too early to tell, but he knew this part of her that he so adored would be getting even bigger in the months ahead, something he was _definitely_ looking forward to. Killian slid his hand and hook up her legs, underneath her thighs to the firm flesh of her ass. He squeezed, hook tearing at the cloth at that covered her there.

“Missed you so much, love. Gods, I just need to feel you,” he breathed, mouth leaving a wet trail over her exposed skin.

Emma clawed at his shoulders, rocking her hips in his lap, grinding against his still clothed cock. “Killian...” Fingers dove into his hair, tugging on it sharply. “I need you _in_ me. _Please.”_

“Soon, love.” He brought his hook to the valley of her breasts, tearing through the material of her gown, ripping the layers of cloth from her body. As soon as they could they were _burning_ that dress. He never wanted to see it again. Killian latched his lips to a puckered nipple, suckling vigorously at the flesh, drawing it gently between his teeth. Emma keened loudly, back arching.

“That's it, Emma,” Killian growled. “Let me hear you.” He didn't care if the whole ship heard them. They'd been through a hell of an ordeal and this was how they celebrated being together. Let the whole world hear just how good he made his love feel.

He supported her with his braced arm, mouth still firmly attached to her breast as his good hand pulled and twisted at its twin. Emma bucked in his hold, jolts of pure want racing down her spine. He could feel the heat of her against his pants, her soaked folds rubbing against his erection as she searched desperately for friction. The look of her naked and writhing in his arms was almost enough to make him come undone. She was so beautiful, warm and alive, and back in his arms where she belonged.

“Killian,” Emma gasped, her voice cracking. “I need...”

“What do you need, Emma? Tell me.”

“Gods, I need to _come_. Pleas just let me come.”

He'd rarely heard her so crude, and he was helpless to resist her. Killian trailed his hand down her still flat stomach to the apex of her thighs. “Fuck, you are so bloody soaked.” Gently, he slipped his fingers through her folds, teasing her entrance before moving back up to her swollen clit. He rubbed at her with his thumb, holding her more firmly as she started to shake and tremble, an endless litany of breathless moans spilling from her lips. _“Come,”_ he growled against her skin.

Emma cried out, nails digging into his linen shirt as the spasms wracked her body. He loved watching her come undone for him; she was exquisite, his own personal goddess. He finally pulled away when she went still, the only movement her heaving chest as she gasped for air.

Killian only gave her a moment's rest before picking her up and depositing her bodily on the desk. He tore at his own clothes, needing what she had wanted earlier, needing to bury himself in her warm willing body. He sighed in relief as his cock sprang free of its confines, stroking it firmly as he stepped up to her. He nudged her legs apart with his hook as he loomed over her, leaning down to nuzzle her hair. “Do you still want me, Emma? Do you still need me inside you?” he asked in a low seductive voice.

Emma leaned her head back, lifting her eyes to his, the pupils still blown wide with lust. “Fuck me, Captain.”

Killian groaned, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. “As you wish, princess.” He had her lean back, using her forearms for support, as he pushed her legs open wider. He dragged her to the edge of the desk, rubbing the head of his cock against her sodden flesh before finding her entrance and sinking inside her. She was so wet he slid in easily, all the way to the hilt. “Fuck.” He couldn't properly describe what it felt like to be in her; he just knew he craved it the way he once craved vengeance.

Killian braced his hand and hook on either side of her hips and pulled back until just the tip of him remained. Then he thrust in quickly, deeply, not letting up, taking her again and again and again, loving the moans and curses that spilled from her filthy mouth. Her eyes were closed, head thrown back in ecstasy. He bent down to latch his lips to her throat, eagerly sucking a mark at her pulse point.

“Look at me, love,” he commanded, still thrusting deeply into her. It was taking all his concentration not to come, wanting her to fall over the edge a second time. Emma lifted her head, looking at him with hooded eyes. “I want you to watch. Watch me fuck you, Emma. Watch my cock disappear inside you. Tell me how that feels.”

Emma bit back a groan, chewing on her lip. He knew the moment she'd done as he asked, her walls contracting around him involuntarily. “So good, Killian,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “You always feel so good. So _thick_ and _long_ and _full_. Gods, I feel so full when you're in me.”

“Fuck...” Her words went straight to his groin, making his hips jerk in response.

Emma moaned loudly, body shivering. “Oh fuck. _Again_.”

Now that he'd rediscovered her sweet spot, Killian was relentless, his thrusts hard and deep, words completely lost now. All there was was primal need and desire. A desire to reclaim her as his. Emma screamed out his name as her climax struck, walls strangling him, body shaking, voice raw. Killian pushed through it, drawing it out until his own climax washed over him in a rush, spilling his seed inside her with two deep thrusts.

They each collapsed against the desk; Emma's head hitting with a soft thump. Killian winced through his labored breaths, his leg aching just a bit from all the vigorous activity. But he ignored it in favor of listening to Emma's slowing heartbeat, a reminder that she really was back with him. She wasn't a dream; she was very real.

They stayed that way, Emma stroking his hair, until his back started to twinge in discomfort. Killian managed to lift himself up, concern filling his features as he looked at his princess. “You still with me, love?” he asked gently, brushing his hand tenderly over her stomach.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I wouldn't say no to a nap though.”

Killian chuckled. “Then a nap you shall have.” He helped her up and got them into their bed. He pressed kisses to her lips and stomach before pulling the blanket up over them. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

Emma woke up to the feel of warm lips brushing over the skin of her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open; it was dark in their cabin. She could feel the familiar gentle rocking of the ship under her, a happy reminder that she was back and no longer in that hellish netherworld.

Killian's good hand slid over her skin, featherlight, tracing all her curves with a soft hum of appreciation. Emma let out a soft gasp when he reached her breast, kneading it gently.

“I didn't mean to wake you, my love,” he mumbled against her neck. “I just needed the reminder that you're really here.”

She felt a pang in her heart; _she_ had done that. She had left him, made him hurt. She'd find a way to make it up to him. He started to pull away, but Emma reached out for his hand, bringing it back to her breast. “Don't stop.”

“Emma, we don't have to...”

Emma rocked her hips back; he was hard and thick against the crease of her ass. “Oh, I think we do.”

Killian groaned. “Minx.” His lips pressed against her skin again, his hand pulling her more firmly against his chest. “Gods, but I want you.”

Her body was already responding; her sleepy state melting away as heat pooled low in her belly. “So have me,” she whispered back. She didn't know what it was between the two of them; their desire was always a heartbeat away, simmering just below the surface.

“I'll be gentle, love,” he murmured reverently. He flicked at her nipple with his finger, pinching and pulling on it with less force than he normally did, hips rocking against her. He slowly toyed with her, working her up as much as possible from their position on the bed, until she was a whimpering needy mess. Emma pressed her thighs together, needing some kind of relief from the building tension.

“Killian...”

“Raise your leg up for me, darling,” he instructed softly.

Emma did as he asked, raising her right leg. Killian pulled it back over his hip; Emma mewled as she felt the tip of his cock brush up against her wet folds. “Fuck...”

“In a moment,” Killian replied in a low voice. He tipped her head back toward him, covering her mouth with his as his hips surged forward allowing him to slip inside her. He groaned into her mouth as he started moving slowly, taking her with shallow gentle thrusts. “That's it, love. Just lay still. I'll take care of you.”

Emma nodded, biting her lip. This was new for them, but she had to admit that she liked it. She slid her leg a little higher, letting him slip in deeper, more pleased and needy sounds tumbling from her lips.

Killian fondled her breast, picking up the pace a fraction, still in no real hurry. “Such a sweet cunt, Emma. So tight around me.” He groaned, adjusting his hips, still rocking into her. “You're so wet for me, lass. Do you love the things I do to you? How I feel inside you? Always want to be in you.”

Gods, his voice in her ear like that, low and gravely and dripping with want, went straight to her core. She wondered if he could make her come just from that honeyed voice of his. She moaned softly, hand drifting down her stomach. The pressure was almost unbearable, building and building, making her lose all sense of time and reason. All that mattered was him and them and how absolutely amazing he made her feel.

Killian let out a strangled groan when he saw her hand. “Do you want to come for me, love? You're so beautiful when you come.”

Emma nodded vigorously, her fingers finally finding the swollen sensitive nub. “Oh fuck,” she gasped, a shudder racing down her spine as she touched herself. “Faster, Killian.”

He heeded her command, hips moving faster, thrusts getting rougher. Emma rubbed her clit furiously, her peak just out of reach. Then she was there, gasping and whimpering, trying in vain to keep her voice down as she drowned in pleasure.

Killian rolled her onto her stomach, slipping out of her. She was too dazed from her orgasm to protest, knowing he hadn't found his pleasure yet. He grabbed a pillow and shoved it under her stomach, raising her hips up. He settled between her legs, cock sliding back into her. Emma gasped in surprise, but it soon melted into a moan, loving how  _full_ she felt. He once told her he could fuck her for hours; she knew from experience that was completely true.

“ _Gods,”_ Killian moaned. “So good, Emma.”

She rocked her hips up experimentally, a fresh wave of desire settling between her legs. She felt his fingers slide over her wet flesh, making her shiver. “Killian, fuck.”

She heard him chuckle darkly and wondered what he had planned for her. All was revealed a moment later when she felt his now damp fingers pressing around her puckered opening. Her whole body jerked as he teased and prodded gently.

“Is this okay?” he asked, gathering a bit more wetness and teasing as he continued to fuck her slowly.

Emma bit her lip, trying to focus on the sensations. It didn't feel uncomfortable...yet. Just different. But she trusted him. “I'm okay.”

Killian groaned, eyes fluttering shut. “Gods, you really are perfect,” he mumbled. She felt his index finger begin to press inside, slipping in slowly, gently. Emma gasped, expecting it to hurt, but it didn't, not exactly. Just a gradual increase in pressure.

“Oh gods,” she breathed. She started rocking up against him as best she could, feeling the familiar tightening in her belly. “Killian, more. Please.”

“The princess likes it, does she? Fucking hell, Emma.” His thrusts became more forceful, more erratic, losing the finesse he normally had since his hand was otherwise occupied. He was fucking her into the mattress, the pillow holding her up just enough to give him the right amount of leverage. “I need you to come for me, love,” he growled.

Whimpers and moans spilled from her lips, past coherent speech as she came apart a second time, the violent spasms wracking her body. Killian cried out hoarsely as he came deep inside her, rutting his hips against her until he was completely spent. Emma felt bereft when he collapsed behind her, even though her body felt deliciously used and sore. Killian almost immediately gathered her against his chest, pressing breathless kisses to her neck and shoulder.

“I love you _so_ much, Emma,” he said. “I love you.”

She smiled tiredly into the darkness. “I know.” She turned in his arms so that she could rest her head on his chest. “Sleepy now though.”

Killian hummed into her hair. “Sleep as long as you need, darling. I'll be right here.”

* * *

The next time Emma woke up, however, she was alone. It took her a minute to realize what had woken her; there was muffled shouting just outside their cabin.

“Get out of my way, pirate.”

“I'm not letting you anywhere near Emma until you've _calmed down_ , Dave. She's sleeping.”

“She's been _sleeping_ since we got on board! I'm telling you that's not _normal_.”

Technically, Emma hadn't been sleeping the  _whole_ time. She'd spent a lot of time with Killian doing...other things. Things she was fairly certain her father would kill him for. A wave of nausea took her by surprise. Emma got up, still naked, and ran for the bowl by their bunk. Fortunately, she didn't actually throw up. The queasiness passed in few moments. But it reminded her of the thing that her father really  _would_ kill Killian for: getting her pregnant. He hadn't taken the news that she'd gotten married well at all. How would he take this?

“You have until dinner time, Jones,” she heard her father snap. “Then I _will_ see Emma. One way or another.”

She hurried to find something to cover herself as she heard Killian huff at her father impatiently. She barely got the poofy white shirt over her head when Killian stepped back into the room.

“Bloody hell,” he sighed. “I told him to keep his voice down.” He closed the hatch and came over to her, wrapping his arms around her. “I'm sorry he woke you, love.”

“It's okay. I should probably be up anyway.”

“You've just been through a terrible ordeal and are carrying a little one, Emma. You should rest.”

“My father doesn't know about that second one, you know.” Emma hugged him a bit closer, burying her face in his chest. He smelled of rum and wood and salt. She loved the way he smelled.

Killian kissed the top of her head. “I almost shouted it at him, just to see the look on his face,” he admitted. “But I don't think you want him to find out that way.”

Emma snorted delicately. “No, that's probably  _not_ a good idea. We're gonna need you all in one piece.”

Killian pulled away slightly, looking down at her in awe. “I'm still having trouble believing that it's  _real_ ,” he said quietly, fingers brushing the apple of her cheek. “That I'm really going to be a father.”

“I never imagined myself having a child this young,” Emma admitted. “But I wouldn't trade any of this for _anything_. I just need you.”

“I'll not leave your side,” he swore earnestly. “I will be here for you and our child. I won't make the same mistake my father did.”

“I know you won't. We just have to convince my father of that.”

Killian laughed derisively. “Strangely, your mother was easier to charm.”

“Really? Do you like her as much as you thought you would?”

Killian nodded. “Aye. Stubborn just like a certain lass I know.”

“Careful, Captain. That lass could be passing on that stubbornness to your child.”

The smile he gave her could light up the whole sky. “I'm counting on it.”

Killian helped her wash and dress; she didn't need it, but she could tell he was reluctant to leave her for any length of time. After what happened at the Dark One's castle, she could hardly blame him. She wasn't fond of being away from him either. It would probably be a while before she was, which was fine with her.

“We'll have to get you some new things,” he murmured as she bent over to pull on her boots. “You'll need a whole new wardrobe soon, love.”

Emma scowled. “Don't remind me. I think the one thing I'm  _not_ looking forward to is being as big as a house.”

“You'll still be my beautiful princess.”

“You say that now.”

Killian placed his hand on her stomach when she stood up. “And I  _mean_ it, Emma. I love you. I love you more than I did five minutes ago. And the five minutes before that. I was completely adrift without you.”

“Have I mentioned being sorry about that?” she asked, a bit sheepish. She hated herself for the agony she had put him through.

“Aye. But I found you again.”

_I will always find you._ That's what True Love did. True Love's Kiss had woken her from the sleeping curse; she now had what her parents had. All her little girl dreams had come true, in the form of a dashing one handed pirate. Emma got up on her toes and kissed him deeply, pouring all her love for him into it. Killian responded in kind, arms going around her waist and picking her up off the floor for a few moments. When they parted, Emma was smiling.

“Ready to break the good news?”

“Aye.”

They found her parents sitting out on deck having a whispered conversation. Emma held tightly to Killian's hand; suddenly this seemed a lot more daunting than she had imagined. Killian leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I'm right here, darling. We'll do it together.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath and started to lead him across the deck, dodging men and equipment like she had so many times before. By the time they got there, her mother was looking at them and smiling.

“Emma! It's so good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

Emma let go of Killian long enough to hug her mother, taking comfort in the hopefulness of her mother's tone. Trust Snow White to bring hope with her. “I was a bit tired, but I'm okay. Killian took care of me.” She pulled back, slipping her hand back into his.

Snow grinned knowingly. “Yes, I can see that.”

“How long until we're home?” her father cut in.

“Another day or so, your highness,” Killian replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“Home?” Emma asked, bewildered.

“I thought you might want to see someplace familiar,” Killian said awkwardly. “After everything.”

“Don't you want to go home?” her father asked.

Emma shifted her feet awkwardly. Honestly, she hadn't given it much thought. She was still a bit overwhelmed about the whole pregnancy thing. “Things...aren't exactly that simple,” she said finally.

“Why?” David demanded.

“David,” Snow admonished.

“No, Emma and this pirate are hiding something. I want to know what it is.”

“Not here, Dave.” Emma could by Killian's tone that his patience with her father's attitude was wearing thin.

“I wasn't talking to you!”

Killian dropped Emma's hand and got right in David's face. Before either of them could come to blows, Emma knew she had to do something. “I'm pregnant.”

In an instant, you could have heard a pin drop. Everyone but Killian looked at her with huge owlish eyes. She saw Killian's jaw clench, already beating himself up for losing his temper and not being there when she blurted it out. He stepped back from David and wrapped his arm around Emma, holding her close.

Snow recovered first. “Emma.” She turned her eyes to her mother, surprised to see watery happiness there. “Emma, honey, that's  _wonderful_ .” The petite woman stepped forward and hugged Emma and Killian, wiping tears from her cheeks as she pulled away. “I'm so happy for you both.”

Emma looked at her father, hoping for some kind of reaction, but he mostly just looked stunned. She pushed down the hurt that bubbled in her chest. She couldn't help but feel she'd let him down somehow. Killian squeezed her shoulder sympathetically. Snow cast a worried look at her husband, but tried to carry on. “How about we all have some lunch and you can tell us all about your adventures?”

“I'd like that,” Emma replied. She really wanted her parents to get to know the man she loved so dearly. But she frowned when her father abruptly got up and left. She started to go after him, but her mother held her back.

“Give him time, Emma. It's a lot for him to take in. He'll come around.”

* * *

David didn't show all through lunch. Emma tried to carry on, tried to pretend it didn't hurt, but she knew from the look on Killian's face that she wasn't entirely successful. On the bright side, her mother was coming to terms with the situation with great aplomb.

“I just want you to be happy,” her mother told her, squeezing her hand. She leaned in next to Emma's ear. “He looks at you like your father looks at me. It's all I ever wanted for you.”

As they were cleaning up, Emma put together a plate. She covered it with a cloth so she wouldn't spill any. “I'm going to find Papa,” she announced.

“Would you like me to come with you, love?” Killian asked, his blue eyes worried.

It meant so much to her that he would offer. She smiled softly. “No, I think this is something I need to do alone.”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Very well, my love.”

“I'll be back soon.”

Her mother nodded encouragingly. “I'm sure the Captain would love to give me a tour of his fine ship in the meantime?”

“Of course, your highness,” he replied, holding out his arm.

Emma smiled at his antics, adoring the way he was _trying_. He knew, despite everything, that her parents were important to her. He hated being a source of friction for them. And now that she was pregnant, she wanted everyone she loved to get along and find some common ground. She wanted her _family_ together, all of it.

She headed through the bowels of the ship, searching for her father. She'd become quite familiar with the layout of the _Jolly_ during her months on board, but she quickly grew frustrated. Where was he? He wasn't in the bunk set aside for him and her mother, he wasn't in the galley, he wasn't in the crew quarters, he wasn't on the gunnery deck. She finally found him in the cargo hold of all places. He was sitting on a chest of gold, his head in his hands.

“Papa?” Emma said softly, not wanting to spook him.

The King raised his head. “Hello, Emma.”

“We missed you at lunch. I brought you some. If you're hungry.”

“That's very sweet of you, puntz.”

Emma smiled, her heart clenching. He hadn't used her childhood nickname in _years_. When she was very small, he called her 'his little pumpkin.' Well, she couldn't _say_ 'pumpkin;' it always came out 'puntz.' So he changed it to puntz. He stopped using it right round the time she became a teenager. She hadn't realized how much she missed it until now.

Emma sat down next to him, handing him the plate. “You should get it while it's good,” she teased lightly. “We don't always have such treats around here.”

“I can imagine.” David uncovered the plate and broke off some bread. “It's not bad,” he allowed, once he swallowed.

“I think Harrison's stepped up his cooking with actual royalty on board.”

“You don't count?”

Emma shrugged. “I'm the Captain's wife and a pirate,” she said simply.

“Emma...”

She turned slightly, looking him in the eye. “I can't help who I fell in love with Papa. I didn't ask for any of this to happen, anymore than you did on that troll bridge. Yes, Killian's a pirate, but he's a good man at heart and I love him. He loves me. We're having a child together. I hope you can find it in your heart to be happy for me. Someday.”

David set the plate aside and took her hands in his. “Emma, I _am_ happy for you. I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself and your happiness. I'm sorry if you felt like I was upset with you. I'm upset with myself. I should have never bowed to Rumplestiltskin's demands. I dreamed of being there at your wedding, giving you away, sharing a dance. And I missed it. I missed all of it and that wouldn't have happened if I hadn't made you feel like you had to run way.”

Emma blinked back tears, her bottom lip trembling. She was definitely her father's daughter and it meant everything to her that he wasn't upset with her choice. David wrapped his arms around her and held her close, cradling the back of her head gently. “I love you, puntz. And I'll love that grandchild of mine too. I promise.”

Emma sniffed, a few tears splashing her cheeks. “Thank you, Papa.”

David chuckled, brushing away her tears. “Now about this pirate of yours...”

An hour later, father and daughter emerged up on deck arm in arm, Emma feeling lighter than she had in months. There would undoubtedly be moments of friction still as the two parts of her life came together, but she had a feeling everything would be alright in the end.

When Killian saw them, his face lit up as if sensing her happy mood. “Everything alright there, love?” he asked.

Emma looked from her father to her husband. “Yeah, everything's fine.”

“Good. Because I do believe the old girl's going to get us home ahead of schedule. We've got the wind in our favor.”

Emma grinned.  _Home_ .

 

* * *

 

True to his word, the  _Jolly Roger_ docked at the slip late the following afternoon. Emma spent most of the day sleeping; the early stages of her pregnancy were taking a lot out of her. Killian insisted she rest as much as possible, to which Emma didn't argue every much. She was just too tired.

“Rise and shine, darling,” Killian said quietly, shaking her shoulder. “We're here.”

Emma groaned, but obediently opened her eyes. “Already?”

“Aye. Your parents have already disembarked. I promised I'd bring you along presently.”

She yawned. “Okay. I'm up.” She threw back the cover and swung her legs out of the bed. She glanced around the cabin, wondering when she'd see it again. “Should I bring anything?”

“I'm sending the crew off on their own recognizance for a few days. Until we can decide what to do. Everything should be safe here for a while.”

Decide what to do. It was something she'd been avoiding thinking about. What would happen now? She couldn't very well be pregnant on a pirate ship, with weeks at sea and occasionally moldy food. And while she was sure her parents would allow them to stay, could she really ask Killian to give up his ship? What about his crew? Being pirates was the only thing they knew. It was a conundrum, one that didn't have a good answer.

Neither talked much as they walked down the gangplank and headed toward the castle. It felt strange being home after everything that had happened. Different.  _She_ was different. Could she really slip back into that princess role? She was a wife and soon would be a mother. She squeezed Killian's hand, thankful for his steady presence at her side.

“So much easier going through the front door, so to speak,” Killian quipped as they crossed the threshold.

“Better view than the dungeons?”

He looked down at her, a grin on his lips. “Definitely.”

“Let's hope none of the guards try to arrest you.”

“Your mother assured me that that minor detail would be taken care of.”

“Minor detail, huh? What else did you talk about with my mother?”

“The usual. True Love and all that.”

Emma couldn't tell if he was joking or not. She decided to let it go. She still hadn't really talked about the discussion she'd had with her father in the cargo hold. She wasn't sure how Killian would take it.

“My lady?”

Emma's eyes widened. “Greta?” She let go of Killian's hand and went to hug her maid. “I hope you didn't get into any trouble because of me.”

“No. The Queen was very kind when I explained. Far kinder than I deserved.”

“She does that a lot.” Emma pulled away and turned to Killian. “Killian, this is my maid Greta. She, uh, helped me run away. Greta, this is my husband, Killian Jones.”

The younger girl's eyes widened when she realized just who Killian was, the man that she'd helped smuggle into Emma's room all those months ago. Killian, ever the gentleman, bowed. “We met before, I believe, love. Although I can't say I got your name, lass. It's a pleasure. Emma's spoken very highly of you.”

Greta curtsied, blushing furiously. Killian had that effect on people. “The Queen asked me to show you to your suite, my lady. Captain.”

Emma's brow creased in confusion. “Suite? What about my room?”

“I'm afraid it's still being refurbished. And the Queen thought you'd like more...private accommodations, your highness.”

Killian smirked, the implication quite clear. Emma rolled her eyes. “Alright, let's see it then.”

Their suite as it turned out was on the opposite end of the castle from where her room had been. After Greta left, Killian laughed. “They must have gotten quite the earful the other night if they've consigned us all the way out here.”

Emma blushed. “It's a very nice suite. I don't think I've ever even been in here before.”

“I'm sure we'll get to know it _very_ well, love.”

Emma sat on the bed, chewing on her lip. This wasn't like her room on the other side of the castle. This had a bedroom, yes, but it also had a separate sitting room and closet. It was a suite of  _apartments_ , not merely a bedroom. This was a place they could live as a family, close to her parents and yet far enough away to feel like they were on their own.

“Killian, what happens now?”

He sat next to her on the bed. “I don't know, love. What do you want to happen?”

She sighed. “I  _love_ being on the ship. The  _Jolly Roger's_ our home, Killian. But...”

“A pirate ship is no place for a little one. Nor you, while you're with child.” He rubbed under his ear nervously. “I was worried the whole time, love.”

“So what do we do?”

Killian took her hand. “I meant what I said before, Emma. If it's a choice between you and my ship, I'll choose you. Especially with the little one on the way. We can take much better care of you here. And don't you want your parents to see their grandchild?”

Emma turned and looked at him, her heart doing somersaults in her chest. “You'd really give up your ship for me?”

“I belong wherever you are, my love. Planks and sails don't mean anything to me without you.”

“I don't want you to give up the _Jolly_.”

“Perhaps there's some kind of happy medium that can be reached?”

“I hope so. We'll think of something.”

“Speaking of happy mediums...how did the talk with your father go? Does he still intend to challenge me to a duel?”

“Is that what happened when I was...away?”

“Let's just say he and I didn't get off on exactly the right foot, love.”

Emma laughed. “Well, I think you're safe now.” She told him all about the conversation she'd had with her father, how she got to tell him all about her adventure. When she finished, she sighed. “He did have a favor to ask though. I told him I'd ask you about it.”

“What is it?”

“He wants us to have a second wedding. You know, for the kingdom. And before it's obvious to everyone that I'm pregnant.”

Killian frowned. “Ashamed to have his daughter carrying the pirate's bastard, is he?”

Emma squeezed his hand reassuringly. “No, nothing like that.” When Killian raised a dubious brow, she sighed. “I promise. It's just...well, actually the before anyone notices part was my idea. I'd like to actually fit in a gown if we actually do this.”

Killian's face softened. “You'd still be ravishing, darling.”

“I know. I just...vanity, I guess? I never pictured myself _waddling_ down the aisle.”

“I know you wanted you parents there when we wed, love. If you truly want this, then I will accede to your wishes.”

“No matter what I am still your wife, Killian. And that night on the _Jolly_ will be the wedding we celebrate for the rest of our lives, okay?”

“Very well.”

“Oh and there's one other thing.”

Killian sighed heavily. “And what is that?”

“A welcome home ball?”

“Is this what your life was like before, love? A neverending stream of balls and obligations?”

Emma smirked. “You showed me your world, now I get to show you mine.”

* * *

“Looks like there'll be no riding today,” Emma said, disappointed. She closed the sash and stepped away from the window. It was a few days since they'd returned and the first where Emma didn't feel like a complete zombie. Who knew that pregnancy could be so _exhausting?_

But with the exhaustion came a bit of cabin fever and Emma had been looking forward to taking Killian riding, complete with a picnic lunch. But it was pouring down rain. They wouldn't be going anywhere for a couple more days at least.

“I'm sure we'll find some other way to pass the time, love,” he murmured, arms going around her waist. “How are you feeling?”

He asked that every day, often more than once. It was rather adorable. “I feel fine. Perfect, even.”

“You're not too tired?”

“Killian, I wouldn't have suggested we go riding if I were just going to fall asleep on you.”

“Is that so? Then I should find some other way to take advantage of this rare day of wakefulness.” Her mother had warned them that for the first few months Emma would be more tired and need a lot of rest. As best as anyone could tell she was about a month along. If Rumplestiltskin hadn't tried that spell on her, it was likely she still wouldn't know. But he had and here they were.

Emma stood up on her toes, immediately sensing where he was going with this. It was the worst part of being pregnant so far. That she didn't have the energy to be with him as much as she wanted, as much as they were accustomed to. But she felt  _good_ today. It would be a shame to squander it. She brushed her lips over his, then moved along his stubbled jaw. “What did you have in mind, Captain?”

“How does having you against every surface in this room sound, darling?”

Emma felt a shiver run down her spine. “I like the sound of that.”

Killian drew her even closer to him, crashing his mouth down over hers. She melted into him, needing to feel the hard planes of his body pressed up against her. “I've missed you,” he mumbled against her lips, his hand cradling her head.

“Me too.” Her hand slid down to his leather clad ass and squeezed, causing him to jerk in her hold. “So have your wicked way with me, pirate.”

Killian growled, pulling her head back by the hair. “Be careful what you wish for, princess.” He picked her up and deposited her on the bed with a bounce. This bed was much like the one they spent their first night together in, with its four posters and cushy mattress. Only this time a mirror hung on the opposite wall. She'd seen Killian eyeing it for a couple of days now, a lustful gleam in his blue eyes.

He caught her glance. “Does the princess fancy watching?” he asked, voice low and gravely, going straight to her core. He kicked off his boots and climbed into the bed, covering her body with his. “Do you want to watch me fuck you, love?” His hand trailed up over her clothed stomach to where her breasts were threatening to spill out of her gown. He yanked on the material, his thumb brushing the freed hardened peak.

Emma bit back a moan, nodding her head. “Yes, Killian,” she breathed. “I want to see your cock buried deep inside me.”

“It's Hook, darling.” Emma looked at him, his blue eyes nearly black with barely restrained lust. She'd asked for the pirate. And it looked like the pirate was what she was going to get. She nodded, letting him know she understood.

He growled again, clearly turned on that she'd just agreed to his little game. Killian covered her mouth with his, his kiss bruising and full of fire. Heat pooled in her stomach, her clit already throbbing, aching for his touch. Her fingers immediately went to the fastenings of his vest, fumbling with the buttons in her haste. She gave up and just tore at them, pulling the ruined fabric from his body. Their lips broke apart long enough to pull the linen shirt over his head, then he was kissing her again, stealing her breath. Her hands roamed over the strong wiry muscles of his back, nails scratching at the skin. She couldn't get enough of how he felt under touch, the contrast between his hardness and her softness making her burn for him.

“Hook,” she whimpered. “Gods, I _need_ you.”

“Once I've had my fill, princess.” He left her abruptly and slid down the bed, leaving her bewildered and panting. He pushed her skirts up, spreading her legs wide. “Gods, I've dreamed about this.” His hook tore away the scrap of lace that covered her and flung it to the floor. “You are _dripping_ , princess.”

Emma turned her head, looking into the mirror. She could see his dark head between her splayed thighs, the sight turning her on more than she could have imagined. She pulled at the material of her skirts, eager to get the best view possible. She jerked when she felt his sinful tongue lick a stripe through her aching flesh. “Fuck!”

Killian wrapped his arm around her left leg to hold her in place. “I haven't even started, princess.” Without ceremony, his mouth was on her again, tonguing her entrance with quick strokes, his scruff rubbing against the sensitive skin of her thighs. She bucked in his hold, not bothering to hold back her mewls of pleasure. He was relentless, fucking her expertly with his tongue; he had her tumbling over the edge in an embarrassingly short time. He lapped at her, licking her clean.

He peaked over the top of her skirts, grin smug, as Emma tried to catch her breath. “That's just the first of many, princess. I intend to _ruin_ you today.”

Emma groaned, understanding as soon as she felt his fingers teasing her still aching clit. She shivered, knowing she would get no respite; that he intended to fuck her until he'd gotten every last drop of pleasure out of her. He went slow at first, light teasing touches, eyes watching her face. It wasn't long until she was writhing under him again; he knew every way to make her _want_ him. When the cool metal of his hook slid through her heated flesh, she shivered, rocking her hips against it wantonly. She loved when he used it on her; this time she could just see the flash of silver in the mirror.

“Gods, yes,” she moaned. “More.”

“You have no idea how hot this is, love. I could take you right now.” The hook pressed harder against her, rubbing over her clit. “That's it, princess. Fuck yourself on my hook.” She saw him reach down, fumbling with something, then sighing in relief. He shoved his leather pants off his hips, leaving him completely bare. “Come for me,” he said, his voice dripping with need. “Come for me so I can bury my cock inside that greedy cunt.”

Emma rocked her hips faster, chasing her release. Killian buried two fingers inside her, curling them into her most sensitive spot. Emma cried out, muscles clenching as she came around his fingers, her eyes squeezed shut.

She slumped against the bed, out of breath. “You are so bloody gorgeous when you come, love.” Killian pressed a parting kiss to the inside of her thigh and came out from behind her skirts. Slowly, he divested her of her gown, the material partially ripped from her fists. Then his mouth was back on her drenched skin, kissing her stomach reverently before moving up her torso with wet open mouthed kisses. She didn't think she had any more in her, but once his mouth wrapped around her nipple, she knew she was wrong. He suckled gently, teeth scraping the hardening peak. Emma moaned softly, feeling his hard thick cock against her leg.

She reached down and took him into her hand, stroking gently. Killian released her and sat up on his haunches, eyes glued to her hand. He moaned as his eyes flickered to the mirror. “Look at us, love,” he said thickly.

Emma turned her head and looked, her breath hitching at what she saw. They'd been nude a thousand times before but seeing them like _this_...Emma looked thoroughly debauched, golden hair disheveled, lips swollen, chest heaving, long legs stretched out. Killian loomed above her like a god, all dark angles and hardness, his own lips kiss swollen, black hair standing every which way. Her small hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking, straining with need as his hips rocked gently into her hand.

“That is how you look to me, Emma,” he said, voice strained. “My golden goddess. Always.”

“Gods, Killian...” Heat was already pooling again, core clenching. “Show me.”

He pulled her up, capturing her lips in a needy breathless kiss. “On your hands and knees, love.”

Emma did as he asked, her hair falling in a curtain around her face. Killian moved behind her, nudging her legs a bit wider. She sucked in a breath when he rubbed his cock against the cleft of her ass, wondering, then relaxing a bit when she heard him chuckle. “Not today, my love. But someday.” He pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades, and then she felt him, just the tip of him, at her entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by agonizingly slow inch, until he filled her completely. “Feels so bloody amazing, Emma,” he sighed.

“Gods, I love having you inside me,” Emma said, her brain too sex addled to even know what she was saying anymore. She just _needed_. Needed to feel him, needed to watch him take her. She brushed her hair out of the way and looked, locking eyes with him in the mirror. “ _Move_ , Killian. Please.”

He pulled out, almost completely, before slamming back in. “Is that what you want, princess? A nice hard fuck?” he growled, with another hard thrust.

“ _Yes!”_

Killian only paused long enough to wind some of her hair around his hook, his hand holding her hips steady. He pulled her head up by the hair, giving her a much better view. Then he was moving, hips pistoning into her, eyes on the mirror watching his cock disappear inside her over and over again. His cock glistened with her arousal as he moved and Emma was fascinated, watching his muscles flex under the skin as he fucked her.

“Such a tight greedy cunt, Emma,” he grunted. “All _mine_.”

She was getting wetter, so completely turned on by their display. She moved with him, still another orgasm coiling low within her. “Gods, I'm gonna come again,” she groaned, fingers tightening in the sheets. “Killian... _fuck_ .”

“That's it, Emma. Squeeze me.”

She came apart in his hold, screaming hoarsely, the world going white behind her eyes. Her walls were still fluttering when Killian abruptly pulled out and laid down on the bed, legs dangling over the end. “Come on, darling, one more,” he coaxed. “Ride me, Emma.”

Still dazed, she started to climb into his lap but he shook his head. “The other way, love. I want you to see it.”

Once again, Emma did as he asked and faced the mirror, kneeling over his still hard cock. She grasped him and guided him to her entrance, her over-sensitized flesh quivering under the near constant assault. But as soon as he slipped inside her, she saw what he meant. She could clearly see them joined in the mirror, her hips rising and falling slowly as she took him deep into her body.

“Killian...”

His hand brushed over her ass, the only part of her he could reach. “I'm close, love. Gods, it feels so fucking good.”

She bit her lip, moving faster, hips jerking when he hit that spot  _again_ . He felt  _incredible_ like this, filling her in all the right ways, hitting places deep inside her that she didn't even know about. Somehow, a  _fourth_ orgasm approached, her body demanding one final release. She moved her hand down, circling her over stimulated clit. Her fingers brushed the underside of Killian's cock and he groaned.

“Fuck, are you touching yourself, Emma?” he said in awe. “Gods, I wish I could see you. Bloody siren, you are.”

“Come with me,” she pleaded, rubbing herself frantically. _“Please.”_ Every muscle tightened as her fourth orgasm crashed into her, Killian shouting her name at the same time as he pulsed deep inside her. Almost instantly, she collapsed, her body completely spent. Killian caught her, sliding her legs out from under her, stretching her out beside him. Her skin tingled and sparked at his touch, even that too much for her over stimulated body to handle, making her groan.

Killian brushed her sweat soaked hair back from her forehead, pressing a kiss to her clammy skin. “Rest now, beautiful. I'll be right here.”

Whatever energy she had when she'd woken up was completely sapped. The rain falling against the windows was like a lullaby; in moments, she was asleep.

 


	12. Chapter 12

He woke up to screams.

Killian sat up in the darkness, his sleepy brain trying desperately to catch up. Emma lay next to him, tangled in the bedclothes, drenched in sweat and yelling her head off. He had to tear the sheet to free her hands, his heart racing, instinctively reacting to the obvious terror from wherever the dreamworld had her trapped. He shook her shoulder once, twice. Still she screamed.

“ _EMMA!”_ he yelled hoarsely, fighting to keep her still. _“EMMA!”_

She gasped sharply, eyes flying open. He could just make out the whites in the darkness. “Killian?”

He was so relieved that she was awake and that she knew him. He pulled her into a tight hug; she was still trembling, clutching at his forearm. “It's alright. I've got you. It's alright now, darling.” He kissed the top of her head, resting his cheek there.

She said something, but it was so soft he couldn't make it out. “What is it, love?”

“Fire,” she whispered. Gods, she was still shaking. “So much fire.”

He didn't know what to make of that. “It's just a dream, my love. Just a dream.” Whatever it was it didn't feel like the nightmares she'd had after Randle attacked her. This felt darker, more sinister.

Emma shook her head. “Curse.”

That got him to raise his head. “Curse? You mean like the sleeping curse?”

She nodded then buried her head against his chest. “Can you light a candle?”

He was almost afraid to let go of her, even long enough to light a candle. But he needed to see her. He dropped another kiss to her brow and let go, turning to get his brace from the nightstand. He put it on loosely, just needing it long enough to strike the flint. This was one of the rare times he cursed not having his other hand. It made him want to kill Blackbeard all over again for making him less than whole.

It only took a few moments; the candle wasn't bright enough to light the room, but it was enough for him to finally see her face. She looked extremely pale and shaky. Quickly, Killian shucked off his brace and gathered her back into his arms. “Better?”

“A little.”

She was still replying with little more than monosyllables, which scared him. “Emma, what did you see?” he asked cautiously.

“A room filled with fire.”

Something Snow had told him when they were on their way to the Dark One's castle clicked into place; he had almost forgotten about it in the euphoria of having Emma back where she belonged. “The netherworld? Is that what you saw?” He held her closer, feeling a bit helpless.

“You know about that?”

“Your mother explained the curse to me,” he said quietly. “Love, I'm so sorry.”

Emma curled her legs around; she was practically sitting in his lap. “I knew what I was doing.” Her voice still sounded a bit shaky.

“I know, which makes you all the more brave for it. To think you'd go through such an ordeal for me...I love you so much, lass.” He pressed his lips to her hair, keeping her against him, offering what comfort he could.

“It stops eventually,” Emma offered. “Papa used to light a candle for Mother when the nightmares came. It made her feel better.” She raised her head, green eyes shining in the low light. “I'd do it again. I love you too much to lose you.”

“I don't want to lose you either, love. _Both_ of you.” He brought his good hand down to her clothed stomach, thumb rubbing it gently. It was still a bit hard to believe that their child was in there. She still looked the exactly the same. He remembered vividly their game with the mirror, how thoroughly debauched and glorious she looked. In a few months, she'd still be glorious, her stomach rounded with their child. She already had a bit of a glow about her that he found completely intoxicating.

“Both of us,” Emma repeated, a bit awed.

“Still surprised, sweetheart?” he asked, with a tiny laugh.

“Maybe a little. It's a big change.”

“Indeed. But we'll take good care of you and the little one. You'll be safe.”

Emma nodded, but he could see the worry in her eyes. She caught his hand in hers. “Do you want a boy or a girl?”

Killian's eyes widened, unprepared for the slight change in subject. “Can't say I've given it much thought. I'd be happy with either, I suppose.”

“I thought...” She chewed on her lip. “I thought if it was a boy...we could name him Liam.”

Killian, for quite possibly the first time _ever_ , was stunned into speechlessness. He simply had no idea what to say. It was incredibly touching that she'd want to name their possible son after his beloved brother.

But Emma took his silence for dissent. “Or not. It was just an idea. It's probably way to early to even start considering names...”

Killian put a finger to her lips, stopping her in mid ramble. “Emma. I think that is a _smashing_ idea.”

“Really?”

“Aye. But what if it's a girl?”

She looked a bit sheepish. “I'm not sure. I didn't get that far.”

He laughed. “That certain, are you?”

“Actually, there is a way to know. My grandmother had a charm that's supposed to tell you the sex of your first born. I think my mother still has it.”

“Shall we pay her a visit in the morning?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“I want whatever you want, Emma.”

“I may be the one who's pregnant, but you're allowed to have an opinion, you know.”

He thought about it. The notion of actually _having_ a child of his own was still so...insane to him, he could honestly say that he hadn't given any of the...aftermath much thought. He'd given up on any hope of family so long ago. But now he was here, married to a princess and she was pregnant with his child. And he was _happy_. So what did he care if his princess gave him a lad or a lass? He didn't. But he could see that Emma did. And if it was something that related to her family...how could he say no?

“Love, we'll go see the Queen first thing in the morning. But I think,” he said, thumbing the apple of her cheek, “you should try and get some more sleep. Can you do that for me?”

She smiled tiredly. “Can you leave the candle? Papa says it chases the nightmares away.”

“Of course, love.” He wasn't sure how much more sleep he'd be getting anyway. He'd be too preoccupied with watching over her. Killian slid them down the bed, Emma moving out of his lap until she was pressed against his side. He wrapped his left arm around her shoulder, her head resting over his heart. In a few minutes her breathing evened out and she was asleep once more.

* * *

They slept later than usual, not that they had anywhere to be. One of the things Killian was learning about this whole prince lark was that the world waited for you. He was used to being up at all hours, but since Emma came into his life he found himself developing a routine of sorts. It had been upended a bit by moving from the ship to the castle, but as the days went by it was getting easier. And Emma needed her rest, so he wasn't about to complain about staying in bed, holding her as she slept.

After breakfast—where Emma had eaten two helpings of everything—they headed across the castle grounds to the Queen's solar. As they crossed the courtyard, Emma pointed out the way she had come when she ran away and Killian shook his head in amazement. The portcullis had to be at least twenty feet high. She was fearless, his princess. Fearless and determined. And she'd done all that for _him_. It made him fall in love with her just a little bit more.

Just as they got to the door though, Killian felt Emma tense. “What is it, love?” he asked.

Emma looked up at him apologetically. “I haven't been here since I found out I was to marry Baelfire,” she explained. “Just feels a bit like déjà vu.”

He squeezed her hand. “Ah, but these are surely happier circumstances?”

She let her free hand drift over her still flat stomach, a smile slowly lighting up her face. “Definitely happier. _You're_ here.”

“I wouldn't be anywhere else.”

Emma took a deep breath. “Okay, I'm ready.” She reached forward and pushed open the door.

It looked like a fabric shop had exploded inside the sunlit room. At least seven servants—seamstresses Killian presumed—were running hither and yon holding up bolts of fabric for the Queen to inspect. She hadn't even noticed their arrival.

“Looks like it's already begun. Wow,” Emma said quietly.

“What's begun?”

“Preparations for the ball. Or the wedding. Or both. It's hard to tell.”

“Oh.” Even when he'd been a naval officer he'd never seen anything like this. Although, generally speaking, all he had to do was clean his dress uniform and show up. He'd never given much thought to all the preparations that went into putting on a royal function.

“Emma! Killian! I didn't see you come in,” Snow said, cutting through Killian's thoughts.

“We can come back later,” Emma replied hurriedly.

“No, no, it's alright. I was just finishing up,” Snow said easily. “Maria, have the girls start on my gowns. I'll bring Emma along later to retake her measurements.” The older woman nodded and curtsied, summoning her helpers to gather their things.

Killian looked back at Emma, who was frowning. “Why do I need my measurements retaken?”

The door closed behind Maria before Snow answered. “Well, you've been away. And as the wedding gets closer they'll need to leave enough room for any...alterations.”

“Alterations?” Killian said, confused. Then he looked down at Emma. The wedding was about two months from now, when she'd be nearly four months along. He didn't know that much about all the changes a woman's body went through during a pregnancy, but allowances needed to be made he supposed. Just in case. “Nevermind.”

Snow smiled indulgently. “Just a precaution, Emma. Relax.” She bade the two of them to sit. “Now since I doubt you came here to see piles of cloth, I'm going to assume there's another reason behind this visit?”

Emma looked at Killian, who nodded encouragingly. “We were wondering if you still have the charm Grandma Ruth gave you.”

Snow's face lit up. “In all the excitement, I had completely forgotten about it! But yes, I have it.” Her smile widened. “I still remember the day she gave it to me and I found out that I'd be having a little girl, against all the odds. She'd be thrilled to see another generation of this family use it. I'll be right back.”

“Odds? What's she talking about, love?” Killian asked, as soon as Snow left the room.

“King George poisoned her,” Emma explained. “He was bitter that Papa chose her, so he made it so she couldn't have children, since she was depriving him of a son. The last drop of water from Lake Nostos cured her.”

“Between the Evil Queen and this George bloke, it's a wonder you were even born, lass.” He tried imagining his life without her in it, a world where his True Love didn't exist. It seemed bleak and dark without his sun.

“It seems like no generation of this family can be born without someone trying to stop it,” Emma said bitterly.

Killian caught her chin in his hand. “Hey, I won't let that demon anywhere near our child. I promise you. And you said it yourself, our baby protected you.”

“I know. I just worry sometimes.”

Killian pulled her to him, tucking her head under his chin. “I'm scared too, lass,” he admitted. “I don't know the first thing about being a father. But I do know that we'll find a way to stay together, all of us.”

“I think you're doing a fine job so far, Captain,” Snow cut in. Killian looked over at her, his arms still around Emma, and nodded gratefully. He remembered the talk they had on the _Jolly Roger_ after Emma went to find the King. It took a lot to earn his respect, but after their adventure, he had nothing but respect and fondness for the pretty petite Queen. She loved as fiercely and completely as Killian himself did, especially when it came to family.

Snow resumed her seat across from them. “Well, here it is! Are you sure you want this, Emma? You could just be surprised.”

Emma sat up and shook her head. “I want to know, _we_ want to know.” Killian nodded beside her. Perhaps it would feel more real if they knew.

“Very well.” Snow handed Emma the amulet and stepped back. Killian held on to Emma's left hand as the right held the amulet out in front of her. It started to swing but what that meant Killian had no idea.

“Is that all?” he asked, a bit let down.

But Emma was smiling; she shared a happy glance with her mother. “It's north-south, isn't it?”

“Indeed it is,” replied Snow White.

“What? What's going on?”

Emma grinned at him. “It means...we don't have to come up with a girl's name, Killian. We're having a son.”

He blinked at her stupidly for a second, then his face erupted in a grin as he let go of her hand and moved his to her stomach. “Liam Jones,” he said reverently, so happy he thought he would burst.

“You've picked out a name already?” Snow asked.

Emma nodded. “After Killian's brother,” she explained.

“Well, I guess I should let Granny know so she can start knitting the right name onto his blanket!”

* * *

They stayed and chatted with the Queen for a little while longer, Killian sharing some stories of his brother. It seemed that knowing his brother would live on in some small way...it was beginning to heal that crack in his heart. In fact, being around Emma's family—which was his now as well—made him feel far more content than he'd expected.

At length though, the Queen had insisted she take Emma off to begin the process of picking out gowns for the upcoming special events. Emma didn't seem overly enthusiastic, but Killian whispered to her that the sooner she got it over with, the sooner she could see him again. He thought it best to appease the Queen for the time being. He would be fine on his own.

He said goodbye to Emma and headed down to the dock. He didn't really need anything; he just wanted to see his ship. He still wasn't sure what to do about her. Just that he couldn't give her up. Emma was right; the _Jolly_ was their home, the place where they'd fallen in love. And now that Killian was having a son of his own, he wanted to take little Liam out sailing on the ship that had once belonged to his namesake.

So the question was...if Killian kept the _Jolly_ , what should he do about his crew?

He pushed the dilemma aside and went around the decks, making sure everything was still shipshape. They had only been at the castle for a couple of weeks now, so nothing was amiss that he could see. Satisfied, he went back to his quarters and dug around for his satchel, intending to take a few things back to their suite.

“Kind of small for two people.”

Killian turned, his stance instantly tensing. It seemed to be his default state when Emma's father was around. “We managed. The Captain gets privacy, not space, your highness.”

David stepped further into the room. “You should have seen some of the places Snow and I had to sleep in when we were fighting Regina.”

“From what Emma has told me, it sounds like an epic tale.”

David laughed dryly. “We may have...embellished a bit when she was little.”

“Are you sure you weren't a pirate in another life, mate?” Killian joked. He was still tense, but this seemed to be a very different man from the one he had met in that tavern.

David laughed again, a bit more pleased this time. It reminded Killian of Emma's laugh. Then the King's face grew serious. “Look, I know...I know we didn't exactly...take to each other right away. Which is mostly my fault. I can't say I ever imagined my only daughter married to a pirate.”

“Your highness...”

David held up a hand. “Let me finish. I _did_ imagine her with someone who loved her more than their own life, who could give her the kind of home and family she deserved. It may not be ideal circumstances, but I'm not blind, Captain. I see the way you two look at each other. The joy in my daughter's face whenever she is with you. Her happiness is all that I want for her.”

“As do I. I'd do anything for her.”

“Facing Rumplestiltskin was very brave.”

Killian shrugged, not trying to garner the King's praise. The only opinion that truly mattered to him was Emma's, but he knew that him getting on with her family was important to her. “It was the only choice,” he said simply.

“I think I'm starting to see what Emma was talking about.”

“That I'm devilishly handsome?”

“That you possess a good heart.” David nodded once and turned to leave, but he paused in the doorway. “Thank you for allowing us to restage your wedding. It means a lot to me, to get a bit of that moment back. Perhaps when you have your daughter you'll understand.”

“Might be a while for that, mate. We've just been to see the Queen.”

“Snow...why... _oh_ , the amulet. I should have known. What did it say?”

“That your grandson will be here in a little over seven months.”

David smiled. “Grandson. Wow.”

Killian huffed, his eyes widening a bit. “You're telling me, Dave.”

“Scared?”

“Bloody terrified, to be honest.” What sort of father had a hook for a hand?

“I was too, when Snow told me she was pregnant with Emma. Regina was still out there, trying to destroy us. I...wasn't sure I could protect them.”

Killian's face hardened. “I'll kill anyone who gets near them.”

If his outburst bothered the King, he gave no sign. “You won't have to do this alone, Captain. This family sticks together. We'll protect them, I promise you.”

* * *

Their little talk quickly turned into an afternoon together, with Killian and the King swapping stories of their adventures. He found that the King was an excellent drinker and card player, which endeared him to Killian. By the time he headed back to their suite, Killian as sure that he and the King could, at the very least, be friends.

He hoisted the satchel up over his head, strap across his body as he wove through the halls. The castle was huge, with people bustling about everywhere. Most now at least knew him by sight, knew he belonged there. He was still dressed like a pirate, unwilling to change, despite Snow's not so subtle hints. He may be on the verge of giving up his life at sea, but he stubbornly held onto some things, not wanting to lose himself completely to his new life.

He stopped by the Queen's solar, looking for Emma, but was told she'd gone back to their suite some time ago. Shrugging, he headed there, hoping she wasn't asleep. She'd been so tired in the early stages of her pregnancy, spent so much time sleeping, he couldn't help but miss her. A bit selfish perhaps, considering she was carrying his child, but they'd gotten used to being together whenever they wanted. These past few weeks had been an adjustment for him, despite his desire to take care of her.

Killian listened at the door, but couldn't really hear anything through the heavy oak. But he could see light flickering under the slit; a fire had been lit. It was only October, but the air was definitely getting cooler. He just hoped that the weather held for the surprise he had planned for Emma's upcoming birthday.

Hoping that the fire meant that his princess was awake, Killian pushed open the door. “Love, you'll never guess who I spent the afternoon with...”

Any other words died on his tongue as his mouth fell open in a silent O.

Emma _was_ awake. Awake, alert and gloriously, perfectly _naked_. Stretched out on a bearskin rug in front of the crackling fire, hands sliding over her flushed skin. She moaned his name softly; it seemed like she didn't even know he was there. But she was naked and touching herself and moaning his name and Killian was certain he'd never been more turned on in his life. His mouth went dry, his skin was hot and too tight and his cock was rock hard in seconds.

“ _Emma.”_

Her eyes fluttered open, the green almost completely swallowed by black. She gave him a slow grin, clearly pleased that he'd caught her like this. “There you are.”

Killian swallowed as he watched her small hands knead the soft swells of her breasts. “You are a vision, love.”

“I missed you,” she replied, giving him a far too adorable pout under the circumstances.

“I can tell.”

“I think you should join me.”

Killian was already pulling the satchel over his head, tossing it into a nearby chair. He stripped, slower than initially intended, knowing Emma's eyes were on him. She loved staring at his toned physique and he knew it. He left out a sigh when he cock sprang free, bobbing against his stomach. Emma bit her lip as she watched, one hand slipping down between her parted thighs. The fire gave her pale skin a warm glow, enhancing her already beautiful form.

He chucked his brace aside and crouched down, stretching out beside her. “It seems you missed me quite a lot,” he observed, eye flickering between her face and the apex of her thighs.

“I...couldn't stop thinking about you,” she admitted, her thumb brushing over the taut peak of her nipple. “Every gown I tried...I kept seeing you between my legs.”

Killian groaned, head falling to rest on her shoulder. “Gods, Emma.” He pressed kisses to her flushed skin, just needing to touch her. “Do you have all sorts of dirty fantasies about me right under your mother's nose?”

She nodded, too far gone to be ashamed. “Ever since the mirror...”

“Tell me, love. Tell what scandalous things you've dreamed about.” His hand drifted down to his cock, fingers wrapping around it lightly.

Her fingers were circling her clit now, rubbing slowly. “You, under a table, head between my legs while there's some boring meeting going on,” she replied softly. “Your mouth on me, making me come without anyone knowing.”

“Fuck. What else?”

“The... _oh_ _gods_...throne room. Sitting up there while I suck your cock.”

“ _Bloody hell, Emma.”_ He knew she was a wanton thing, his princess, but sweet merciful gods. “What else?”

“I...” She opened her eyes, looking directly into his. “I want to watch you,” she said clearly. “I want to watch you touch yourself.”

Killian raised a brow at her, able to tell by her tone that she'd thought about  _that_ particular fantasy for quite a while. “The princess likes to watch, does she?” he asked, moving to kneel between her thighs. His hand continued to slowly pump his cock, her eyes following every movement. “Such a naughty girl, love.”

“Please, Killian,” she begged. As if he would deny her. The fact that she was asking at all was driving him crazy. He loved experimenting with her.

“Together,” he breathed, his eyes flickering back down to the hand between her legs. He wanted to see just what this did to her, how hot it made her. He just couldn't get enough. “And then I'm _fucking_ you, lass.”

“Anything. Just don't stop.” Her hips rolled into her hand, fingers gliding easily through her folds. She was soaked and aching, as aroused as he'd ever seen her. He moved his hand faster, a shudder racing through him. This was all he'd had for far too many weeks after they'd missed each other at the gate. When he couldn't get her out of his head, each time leaving him half mad with want. And now she was here, spread out like a veritable feast before him, begging to let her watch him pleasure himself. How was this even his life?

Emma whimpered as she slipped two fingers inside her dripping cunt, the sight making Killian groan. “That's it, darling. Show me. I want to see you.” She was gorgeous like this, golden hair shining like a halo, pale skin tinged with yellow and orange, eyes black with want, pink lips parted in a breathy moan.

“Killian... _gods.”_ She bit her lip, trying to reign herself in, to go slow, to make it last, but they were both too far gone now. Killian's hand moved faster, thumb swiping the tip with practiced strokes; the sight of her before him, getting herself off for him, making it almost impossible to hold back.

“Close,” he bit out, feeling his release just a hairsbreadth away. _“Fuck.”_

“I want to see you come,” Emma demanded, her voice as equally as strained as his. “Come for me, Killian.”

That was all it took.  _“Emma!”_ he roared, his release spurting out over her stomach, fist pumping until he was spent. This time it was Emma following  _him_ , as she pinched her clit hard, fingers pumping in and out. She cried out his name as her back arched off the rug, her release ripping through her. She was  _beautiful._

Killian collapsed over her leg, breathing hard. “You are _incredible_ ,” he mumbled, bringing her hand to his lips. He sucked her fingers clean, knowing he'd have to go fetch something to clean them up better. But he needed a moment to catch his breath.

Emma sighed happily as he finally managed to heave himself up to get a washcloth. He soaked it in the basin and returned, sitting cross legged at her side, gently cleaning her skin of the drying evidence of their tryst. When he was finished, he folded the cloth and brushed the clean part over her sweaty forehead. “All better, lass?”

“Yeah, thank you, Killian.”

He grinned, tossing the washcloth away. “Next time you want something that badly, love, just ask.”

“Was it that obvious?”

Killian stretched out next to her, rolling her onto her side so that her back was to his chest. “I've caught you staring before, love. Our very first time, if memory serves,” he said chuckling, wrapping his arm around her, hand spread protectively over her stomach. “It's nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I just...didn't know how to ask. You're better at that than I am.”

“Oh, I don't know about that, love. Those are some pretty racy fantasies you've got there.” He kissed her shoulder. “Which I will happily enact with you, should you ever desire.”

“A bit cocky there, Captain.” He could _hear_ her grin.

Killian laughed. “Oh, I think we both know you _like_ your cocky pirate captain.”

She wriggled back against him, making him groan softly. “Well, you're very...talented in that area.”

“And you are an insatiable siren, darling.”

“Lucky for you?”

He nuzzled the back of her neck, nose buried in her golden hair. “And you're all _mine,”_ he growled softly.

Emma moaned, her hips rocking back against him involuntarily. “Gods, Killian...more.”

It took him a moment to figure what she was asking for; he'd hardly touched her. Then he realized. His _voice_ ; she was getting turned on by his voice in her ear. He wondered if this was another little fantasy of hers. It would certainly explain a lot, since Killian certainly wasn't quiet when they were together.

“Minx,” he muttered, pressing kisses along the curve of her shoulder. “You like this, don't you? Listening to me. Telling you all the things I want to do to you.”

Emma nodded, reaching down to bring his hand to her breast, rubbing his palm over the already hardened peak. “Please, Killian. Make me come. Please.”

So she _had_ been thinking about it. Killian groaned, wondering what _other_ delicious dirty fantasies she'd been keeping from him. This would be a challenge, but Killian Jones never backed down from a challenge. “You can't touch,” he said, tugging on her earlobe with his teeth. “Can you do that?”

Emma nodded again. “Gods, I wanted this,” she whispered. “Forever.”

“How long, love?” He was starting to get turned on too— _already_ , gods, what was it that she did to him—he'd be more than ready for her after she found release.

“Your trial,” she breathed.

“ _Fuck.”_ They shared one look across the hall then. And she'd _already_ wanted him. Gods, he loved her. “You are a bloody goddess, Emma.” He twirled her nipple, pinching and pulling on the puckered flesh. Emma mewled, writhing against him. “I couldn't get you out of my head,” he said in a low seductive voice. “Wondering how you'd feel under me, _around_ me. Would have taken you right there, love.”

Emma pressed her thighs together as she rocked back against him instinctively. “Oh gods.”

“Even better than I imagined though. So warm and willing and _tight_. Feels so good around my cock, Emma.” He scraped his teeth across the sensitive spot just under her ear, loving her needy moan of pleasure. “Love when you ride me, like you were _born_ to. Buried deep inside your greedy cunt, screaming my name as you come.”

Emma inhaled sharply, fingers curled into fists.  _“Close,”_ she gasped.  _“Fuck.”_

“Let me hear you, Emma. Come for me,” he growled, his lips close to her ear.

She fell apart before his eyes, crying out his name over and over like a prayer. He'd never seen anything like it; she was _so_ responsive and wanton and she was all _his_.

Carefully, he rolled her back onto her back; his cock was straining and painfully hard. He hissed when it brushed against her flushed skin. “I need you, Emma,” he pleaded. “Need you so much.”

She nodded weakly, still dazed from her orgasm. Killian knelt between her legs, lifting them up onto his shoulders. Part of him wished he didn't need her so much, that he could take her with slow reverent strokes, but he was wound too tightly, watching her come twice drawing the pirate out, rather than the gentleman. He leaned over her, pressing her legs back toward her chest as he plunged inside her quivering wet heat.

He wasn't gentle, pushing into her with hard desperate plunges, knowing he wouldn't last long. He grunted, angling his hips until she cried out. He repeated it over and over, greedy enough to try and coax another orgasm from her. He loved feeling her squeeze him as as she came, knowing he was the one who brought that pleasure out of her.

Emma's fingers tangled in the soft bearskin rug, back arching off the floor. “Harder,” she gasped. “ _Harder_ , Killian.”

“ _Fuck.”_ Killian did as she bid, bottoming out inside her. Emma shuddered; every thrust grinding against her aching clit. “Again, Emma,” he demanded. _“Again.”_ He was painfully close to his own release, his brow dripping with sweat as he tried to hold it off until she shattered.

“Yes, yes, yes, _yes!”_ Emma yelled as her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm. Her walls contracted painfully around him and Killian screamed hoarsely, his own orgasm hot and overwhelming. His hips rutted against hers, drawing out their pleasure, until he finally went still. He had just enough strength left to lower her legs and roll onto his side, panting.

“Alright there, love?” he managed, when he got some of his breath back.

Emma smiled lazily. “'M, fine.”

His eyes drifted down to her stomach. “And the little one?”

“He's good too.” She rolled closer to him, head resting on his chest. “Love you.”

Killian wrapped his arm around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head. “I love you, my beautiful princess. And you, little Liam.”

* * *

“ _Killian! Killian!”_

Killian's eyes snapped open, heart instantly racing. Emma was next to him, thrashing wildly in the bed again. He tore the covers back and tried to get her still enough to wake her. She was still screaming his name, the panic and fright in her voice making his blood run cold.

“Wake up, Emma. It's just a dream.” He cursed under his breath, cursed the Dark One, cursed magic, cursed all the gods he could think of for allowing his princess to go through this. He shook her shoulder again and again, but each time it got harder and harder to wake her. After the first nightmare, she'd gotten one every night and each time Killian rose, pulling her back from the flames. He'd light her candle and do his best to soothe her back to sleep. Sometimes he read. Sometimes he hummed an old sea shanty. Sometimes he merely stroked her hair with his good hand. But each time it happened his heart broke a little, as he wished there was something _more_ he could do for her.

“Emma! Love, _wake up!”_

Finally, she woke, green eyes wide with fright in the early morning light. She clutched at him desperately, shaking like a leaf. “You're okay,” she whispered.

“'M right here, lass. Right here.” He kissed her temple gently, before rolling them onto his back, Emma tucked tightly against his side. “Everything's alright now.” The first rays of sun were peaking through the drapes; there was no point in lighting her candle now. Killian knew _he_ wasn't getting anymore sleep.

 “It feels so real,” Emma said softly. “All the time.”

"Your mother said it was a whole other world, so I imagine that while you're there it _is_ real.” His good hand rubbed the arm she had thrown across his chest, doing his best to soothe her. “It appears that our little experiment didn't work though.”

That got Emma to smile. “Your 'fuck Emma into exhaustion' plan? Worked pretty well from where I'm sitting.”

“Lass...” He knew she was teasing, but the longer these nightmares went on the more agitated Killian became. He couldn't imagine that all the fright and terror was good for the baby. Emma and little Liam's well being was more important than anything else.

Emma hugged him tight. “I know,” she said to his unspoken thought. “I'm worried too.”

“There has to be something they can do for you. You're with child, damn it.”

“Mother said hers went on for months.”

Killian growled disapprovingly. “You are _not_ going through this for months. I won't allow it.”

“Killian, I knew the consequences when I underwent the curse.”

“I don't care. I'm not losing you or our child because of the Dark One's petty machinations. Magic did this to you, magic can undo it. Or at least mitigate the effects. We'll find a way.”

At daybreak, they got up and dressed; neither of them really able to sleep. Killian quietly fumed, noting the dark circles under her eyes, the heaviness in her limbs caused by lack of sleep. He hated seeing her like this, the light in her eyes slightly dimmed. This should be a happy time, with them preparing for balls and weddings and their son. Instead, they were awake at all hours, coping with the aftereffects of a curse.

Killian wrapped her arm around his and led them out through the corridors, intent on having a few words with his in laws.

But it appeared that the King and Queen did not wish to be found. Not in their apartments, Killian and Emma searched all the public rooms, wondering where they could be. There didn't seem to be any sort of emergency going on and David had promised to keep Killian apprised if there was any developments on the Rumplestiltskin front.

“Maria, have you seen my mother?” Emma asked one of the passing servants. Killian recognized her as the seamstress from the other day in the Queen's solar.

“She's at the Council meeting, my lady.”

“Council meeting? I didn't know there was a Council meeting. Why didn't anyone tell me?”

Maria shrugged. “That I don't know, highness.”

Emma dismissed her and turned to Killian. “I wonder what's going on?”

“Shall we go find out, love?”

“Definitely.”

Emma led them to the large Council chamber; Killian could hear voices through the door. He pushed open the door and led Emma inside. The large round table was filled with official looking types, all wearing different livery.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Killian asked loudly.

Fifteen pairs of eyes turned to look at them. The King and Queen at least had the decency to look ashamed. Everyone else was curious.

“So is this him then?” one of the representatives asked in a condescending tone.

Killian stepped further into the light, temper flaring. “I'd watch your mouth, my lord,” he said quietly. Killian may not have his sword, but he did have his hook. And it was just as deadly.

Snow stepped between them. “Yes, this is Captain Killian Jones, our daughter's fiancé.” She turned to Killian and Emma. “Captain, these are the messengers from the various kingdoms come to make arrangements for the wedding.”

_Fiancé?_ What was  _that_ about? Some official nonsense, Killian suspected. And judging from the Queen's unease, there was something  _more_ about this meeting than a simple wedding. What game was the Queen playing at?

“Yes, we were almost finished,” the King cut in, standing. “We're all very honored that your masters will be gracing us with their presence at the wedding. It's a great occasion, one I personally have looked forward to for many years. I wish you all safe travels.”

These courtiers had the sense to know when they were dismissed. All of them rose, bowing at the King and Queen before taking their leave. A few stared openly at Killian as they filled past, casting wary glances at his hook.

When the door closed behind them, Killian rounded on his in laws. “Does anyone mind telling me what the bleeding hell that was all about?”

“Please, Captain, Emma. Sit. And we'll explain.”

They did as Snow bid, Emma squeezing Killian's hand reassuringly. She was taking this better than he was, but then again she was used to all this royal intrigue. Killian much preferred a straight up fight.

“That wasn't just about the wedding, was it?” Emma asked.

“No,” her father replied, retaking his seat. “I mean, it was, but there's more to it.”

“And what was that _fiancé_ business, mate?” Killian snapped. “Emma and I are already married.”

“Yes,” Snow said patiently. “But they don't know that. We thought it best to stage this as if it were your _only_ wedding. It's what we did, after defeating Regina.”

That mollified him a little. It seemed fitting to follow in their footsteps, so to speak. “I can't imagine that my recent death sentence helps matters.”

Snow smiled kindly. “It's going to be...an adjustment for some, certainly. But you have our blessing. Everyone else will just have to deal with it.”

“Says the Queen who married a shepherd.”

“Exactly, Captain. Exactly.”

“So if that wasn't just about the wedding, then what?” Emma asked again.

“We were sounding out some of the other kingdoms about an alliance. Against Rumplestiltskin,” the King informed them. “The wedding will double as a treaty signing.”

“And you were going to inform us of this...when?” Killian asked, his eyes hard. “We had a right to know.” Anything that had to do with Rumplestiltskin was his business. It was his wife and child that were threatened.

“We wanted to see if it was possible,” Snow said, trying to soothe him. “We didn't want to get your hopes up. We were planning on telling you as soon as everyone left. You just beat us to it.”

Killian wasn't sure he was entirely happy with that explanation, but he let it go for Emma's sake. This was his world now too, he'd have to learn its rules. Fortunately, he was a quick study.

“How did it go? The negotiations?” Emma asked. She squeezed Killian's hand reassuringly.

“The Dark One's done something to almost all the kingdoms at some point; most of them were receptive. We didn't go into a lot of detail about what happened to you, but there was a lot of outrage. We'll see for sure at the wedding,” the King said.

“Sounds like it's going to be quite the affair,” Killian deadpanned.

“It won't ruin your day,” Snow promised. “But a royal wedding is one of the few times when the ruling heads gather. It seemed like the best option.”

“A few are coming for the ball,” David added. “Frederick and Abigail. Ariel and Eric. I think Philip and Aurora are coming as well. Most of them are eager to meet you, Killian.”

“Me or Captain Hook?” Killian asked knowingly.

“Honestly? Both.”

Killian gave him a sardonic grin. “Fair enough, mate.”

“But you obviously came here wanting to talk about something else,” Snow said.

Killian looked at Emma. “Her nightmares are getting worse.”

“Oh Emma,” Snow said worriedly, coming to examine her daughter. “You look exhausted, dear.”

“Isn't there anything we can do?” Killian asked. “I'm not just worried about her, but the baby too.”

“I don't know,” Snow said sadly. “Are you getting any sleep, Emma?”

“Some, but I always wind up in that room. Then I wake up screaming.”

The Queen shared a concerned look with her husband. “We can ask the Blue Fairy, but I don't know if her magic will be enough.”

A moment later a bright blue light pulsed, getting bigger as it came into the room. Killian blinked once and tiny, pretty fairy hovered not far from Snow's head. “You called, dear Snow White?”

“That was fast, Blue,” Snow said suspiciously.

The Blue Fairy's cheeks went pink. “We've been watching the princess since she returned from the Dark One's castle.”

“You were _watching_ her and you let this happen?” Killian demanded, standing, outraged.

“We didn't know if the curse would affect her the same way, _pirate_ ,” the brunette fairy snapped. “She's got magic.”

“You knew I had magic?” Emma cried. “How long?”

“Since you were born. You're the product of True Love, Emma.”

“Why didn't we know?” David asked, mirroring Killian's stance. “We're her parents, we should have known.”

“It had to develop on its own,” the Blue Fairy explained. “She's unique.”

“And she is right here,” Emma exclaimed, getting to her feet. “What do I have to do to make the nightmares stop?”

“I don't know if we can get them to stop entirely,” the fairy said sadly. “But we can lessen their effects. If you're willing to learn.”

“Learn what?”

“To control your magic. To use it properly. You're powerful, Emma. So powerful the Dark One is terrified of you.”

“He didn't seem very terrified.”

“He didn't tell you about the prophecy?”

“What prophecy?” Killian asked.

“The one that tells of the savior, the one powerful enough to destroy the Dark One once and for all.”

Emma laughed. “Me? Destroy the Dark One? You have got to be kidding.”

“I assure you, Emma. I am not. That's why he wants your magic. If he can take it from you, then he is safe.”

“But he couldn't.”

“Only due to the child you carry. Once that child is born, you'll be vulnerable once more. You must learn to use your magic. It's the only way.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

_This is stupid,_ Emma thought for the tenth time as she tried yet again to vanish the stone in front of her.

After the Blue Fairy's announcement of Emma's supposed destiny—she was still having trouble buying it even though she'd  _seen_ what happened when the Dark One had tried to take her heart—she'd begun her magical education. But it was slow going. And frustrating.

“It won't work if you keep doubting yourself, Emma,” the Blue Fairy sing songed at her, as if she _knew_ what Emma was thinking.

“Or maybe you're just a crappy teacher,” Emma shot back, pushing some of her hair back from her forehead. She was hardly moving and still, she was sweating.

“Emma, this is _important_ ,” the Blue Fairy said sternly. “The entire fate of the Enchanted Forest could hang in the balance.”

“The fate of the Enchanted Forest rests on me being able to vanish this rock?”

The tiny fairy huffed. “If you're not going to take this seriously...”

“All I want right now is to stop going into the burning room every time I close my eyes,” Emma retorted. Finally, exhausted, she'd taken to having catnaps in the afternoons. Killian was always with her, insisting she get as much rest as she could. She could see how worried he as about her and it made her love him even more. She told him he didn't have to stay, that she would be fine on her own, but he'd just smile and nod and crawl into the bed with her, humming some tuneless song until she was asleep. She worried that it would be boring for him, looking after her, but he never complained.

“Have you been practicing?” Blue asked astutely.

“Yes!” Emma said indignantly. “But it doesn't always work.” The fairy had been trying to teach her how to control her dreams, but they had only been partially successful. She still went into the burning room, but now she could control it...sort of.

“The pirate is distracting you...”

Emma glared. “Don't you  _dare_ bring Killian into this. He's the reason I manage to get any sleep at all. And he's my  _husband_ , not just a pirate.” The fairy's tone whenever she mentioned Killian was something Emma didn't like. Wasn't she supposed to an advocate of True Love and things like that? What was her problem?

“All the same, you need to believe in yourself. You have the power, Emma. You simply need to unlock it.”

“I didn't ask for this,” Emma grumbled, turning to refocus on her rock.

“No one does,” the Blue Fairy said sadly. “But you do have control over your fate, Emma. Choose wisely.”

Emma spent the rest of the morning working on her magic. She did manage to vanish the rock eventually. It materialized in the rafters, but it was progress. She was more than happy with that. More importantly, she was starving, which meant it was time to quit.

“Blue,” she asked, just as the fairy was preparing to depart.

“Yes, dear?”

Emma's hand drifted to her stomach. “You said I'm the product of True Love and that's why I have magic. But what about Liam? Will he?”

“It's too early to tell, princess. But if your love is as strong as you believe, then yes. I think he will. His mother is very special.”

“His father is too.”

“I'm beginning to see that.” The fairy paused, deep in thought. “I will send Green along to continue your studies, princess. I think she may have more luck unlocking your potential. She has...a gift for believing in people.”

Emma bid the fairy goodbye and headed off to her suite; she was supposed to meet Killian for lunch. She was worried about him. He begged off a clothes fitting her mother had been pestering him to do to go talk to Smee; it was getting harder and harder to avoid making a decision about the _Jolly_ and her crew. Matters had come to a head a few days ago when her father had asked—and Emma still wasn't sure if her father was _joking—_ whether they were coming to the wedding. Since then Killian had been on edge, even though he believed he was hiding it from her. But she knew him better than he knew himself.

Killian was already there when she arrived; he threw his coat it a chair, sighing heavily. It was such a change from the last time they were in this room.

“Hey,” she said quietly.

Killian gave her a smile that didn't _quite_ reach his eyes. “'Ello, beautiful.”

She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his torso, hugging him tight. “How'd it go?”

“About as well as can be expected, love.”

“You can still change your mind.”

Killian shook his head. “My life is here now. I'll keep my ship, but they have to make their own choice.”

“What does Smee think? Will any of them stay?” She'd come to love his crew like family; it hurt to see any of them leave. But Killian was right; it had to be their choice.

“A few. In fact, I think Smee himself might stay on. He talked once about retiring.”

“Really?”

“Aye, when we captured a certain princess for ransom.”

She knew without saying he meant her. “You never said anything.”

“I was _never_ going to do that to you, love,” Killian said emphatically, brushing some hair back from her face. “After thinking I would never see you again, I had no intention of letting you out of my sight.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You are far more precious than any treasure.”

Emma's heart fluttered, the way it always did when Killian said things like that. “Such a flatterer, Captain,” she teased, feeling her cheeks warm all the same.

“It's not flattery when it's the truth, darling.”

“When are you going to tell them?”

“In a few days. Smee says they got a bit scattered since we made port, which is to be expected I suppose.”

Emma frowned. “If I wasn't pregnant...”

“Hush,” he said, putting a finger to her lips. “You and our son are the most important things in the world to me. I'd give up the _Jolly_ entirely if that's what it took to stay with you. I just happened to find a lass who loves her as much as I do. I wouldn't trade any of this for the world, Emma.”

“Even if that means endless balls and court politics?”

Killian laughed dryly. “We'll have the ship if we ever need to get away.”

“Don't tell my father that.”

“I think he's afraid that I'm just going to spirit you away on a whim.”

“Are you?”

“Only if you ask _very_ nicely.” Killian guided them to the couch, making a plate for her from among the goodies the kitchens had dropped off for their lunch. “I know how important your family is you, Emma. And your people. I am content to be wherever you are.”

Emma accepted the plate, taking a bite of the mince pie. “I still don't want to be Queen,” she admitted quietly. “And I certainly don't want to be some kind of mythical savior.” All Emma truly wanted was to live somewhere peacefully with her husband and her son. She resented having a destiny she didn't choose thrust upon her.

“No matter what the world calls you, you're always Emma to me, love.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “But you won't have to do those other things alone. I'll be there with you.”

“Does it change anything? The magic?”

Killian shook his head. “You were already extraordinary to me, Emma. I realized that the moment I saw you. I'm merely the lucky lowly pirate who gets to call you his.”

Emma sat her half empty plate aside. “I talked to the Blue Fairy today.”

“About what?”

Emma rested her hand on her stomach. “About Liam. I asked....” She sighed. “I asked if she thought that Liam would be like me. Have magic.”

“What did she say?”

“That it was too early to tell. But it was likely.” Emma chewed her lip. “Can we do this? Can we bring him into a world filled with magic and danger? Magic can be destructive. The histories are littered with people— _good_ people—who got corrupted by magic! What if that happens to him? What if that happens to _me?_ You saw Rumplestiltskin, Killian. And I'm supposed to be the one who _destroys_ him!” Her voice rose an octave as she spoke, fears only half formed pouring from her lips. She'd kept all this bottled up and it was bursting forth, unbidden and unstoppable.

Killian put down his plate and turned to draw her into his lap. It was only then that she realized she was shaking. He kissed the top of her head, as she clutched at the necklace around his neck. “I won't let anything happen to you, Emma. Or Liam. I swear it. We _can_ do this.” He stroked the top of her leg with his hook, the gesture soothing her far more than it had any right to. But Emma knew without a shred of doubt that she was safe. Killian's arms were the safest place in the entire world.

“I'm scared.” She'd spent so much effort putting on a brave front, especially for her parents; it was exhausting.

“I know.” He kissed her brow lovingly. “But we'll get through it together, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She felt so warm and loved there in Killian's embrace, it wasn't long before she found herself dozing off. She woke just long enough to register Killian carrying her to their bed, shucking off his boots and brace before joining her, wrapping her securely in his arms. It was the first truly peaceful sleep she'd gotten since the nightmares began.

* * *

It didn't take long for the Blue Fairy to make good on her promise of sending Emma a new magical mentor. The very next day while at breakfast with her parents a tiny blonde haired fairy dressed in green appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Emma nearly dropped her glass of juice in surprise.

“Careful!” the fairy said solicitously, as she helpfully righted the glass.

Emma sat the glass on the table. “The Green Fairy?”

The tiny fairy huffed indignantly. “My _name_ is Tinkerbell. I don't know why Blue insists on calling me _Green_.”

“I don't know if you noticed, but you do seem attached to the color,” Killian said dryly.

Tinkerbell glared. “And you are?”

“Killian Jones, Emma's _husband_ ,” he retorted, putting special emphasis on the last word.

“The pirate? You don't look very fearsome.”

“Oi!”

Emma rolled her eyes, her hand covering his brace. “He'll surprise you,” she told the fairy. “He's been doing it for as long as I've known him. You're here to teach me, right?”

The fairy pulsed brightly for a moment, then stood in front of them, looking more or less like normal person. She was still shorter than Emma though. “Sorry, it's so bothersome to talk to you like that. I like this way better.”

“I didn't even know fairies could do that,” her mother said, speaking up for the first time.

Tinkerbell grinned mischievously. “Technically, we're not supposed to. But I'm a rebel.”

Emma found herself returning the fairy's smile. They were going to get along just fine.

Rather than the out of the way guest suite Emma had practiced in before, Tinkerbell led them into the empty Great Hall. Killian had insisted on coming; Emma suspected it was to make sure that her new mentor was up to scratch, especially since the Blue Fairy had forbidden Killian from coming before. She was convinced that he would be a distraction. But Tinkerbell seemed to welcome his presence, much to Emma's relief.

The fairy conjured three chairs in the middle of the hall and invited them to sit. Surprisingly, Emma felt a twinge of envy. Would she be able to do that someday? “Before we get started, let's see what you've done so far,” Tinkerbell said matter of factly. “The we can try and figure out what your strengths are.”

Emma frowned. “I don't think I really have any.”

“Rubbish,” Killian cut in. “You stopped the bloody Dark One from stealing your heart, darling. If that's not strength, then I don't know what is.”

“Wait,” Tinkerbell said excitedly. “You stopped the _Dark One_ from stealing your heart? How?”

Emma shrugged. “To be honest, I don't even know. I could feel his hand around my heart, then there was this bright light and he was gone.”

“And this was the first time you did magic?”

Emma thought. “Maybe? When Rumplestiltskin said I had magic, I laughed in his face. It was just too absurd.”

Tinkerbell chewed her lip, thinking. Killian reached over and squeezed her hand, offering his quiet support. All this magic stuff still freaked her out. “Okay,” the blonde fairy said, “let's think. Are there any other times you can think of that something happened around you that you couldn't explain? Perhaps you did magic and didn't even realize it!”

Emma shared a look with Killian, wondering if Tinkerbell's assessment could possibly be true. There certainly wasn't anything in her life from before she met him, she knew that. She'd been just an ordinary girl, who happened to be a princess. She'd learned physical defense _because_ it was all she had. Magic had never entered her head.

“What about that nightmare, love?” Killian asked tentatively. “Didn't you tell me that one of your nightmares came true?”

Emma's brow furrowed. “Could something like that be _magic_ though?”

“Oh yes,” Tinkerbell interjected. “Prophetic dreams are very real. Tell me about it.”

Emma explained about the nightmare, the endless corridor, her attempted escape from Rumplestiltskin's dungeon. When she finished, the fairy nodded sagely. “Sounds like a prophetic dream to me. Anything else?”

“Um...remember with Badger?” Emma said, turning to Killian. “And I just _knew_ that the staff was real? I couldn't explain why I knew, I just did.”

“Aye, that was Merlin's staff. Probably very powerful. You probably sensed its power or something.”

Tinkerbell narrowed her eyes. “Wait, back up. You had _Merlin's staff_ and you just...gave it away?”

“The sodding Dark One was using it to track us,” Killian said defensively. “We had to get rid of it. How were we supposed to know Emma had magic? Speaking of which, Emma, love, I don't know if you remember this, but that was a very sudden wind that got us out of that harbor.”

“You think that was _me_?”

Killian rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “I've been a sailor for a long time, love. I've never seen a breeze as advantageous or timely as that one.”

“That's...crazy.”

“So is a princess who runs away with a pirate and yet...here we are.”

“So a prophetic dream, _Merlin's staff_ and unnatural gust of wind,” Tinkerbell said, ticking them off on her fingers. “All occurring in and around moments of stress. Interesting.”

“The Blue Fairy had me moving rocks and lighting candles,” Emma said, happy to move the topic of conversation away from her bouts of accidental magic.

“And she was helping you with your dreams to the netherworld, correct?”

“Yeah, but I wasn't having much much luck. Until yesterday.” Emma realized with a start that she actually had managed to sleep through the night for the first time in weeks.

“Okay, this is good. I think we can move on to some more difficult spells. If you're as powerful as Blue seems to think, this should be interesting.”

Killian coughed to get the fairy's attention. “Now when you say _spells_ , is she going to be bibbity bobbity booing all over the place?”

Tinkerbell glared at the all too overt aspersion on her kind. Emma kicked him with her boot. “No, _Captain_. Only the most complex magic requires an incantation. Magic comes from emotion. Channeled in the right way, Emma should be able to do extraordinary things. She just has to believe in herself.”

“That's what the Blue Fairy said,” Emma replied dejectedly. She didn't feel very upbeat about doing any better than she had before.

It was Killian's turn to admonish. “I've yet to see you fail, love. You can do this.”

“See? Even the pirate thinks so,” Tinkerbell said, smiling. “Come. I'll show you.” The blond got up and indicated that they should follow. With a wave of her hand, Tinkerbell whisked away their chairs. “We'll start small. Those big heavy doors? I want you to shut them.”

Emma looked at the doors skeptically. The doors to the Great Hall were over nine feet high and made of heavy oak. Only the fittest knights could open or close them. Killian nodded encouragingly. “Okay, I'll try.” She let go of Killian's hand and faced the doors. She held up her hands and closed her eyes, willing the doors to close. She heard the hinges creak ominously and her eyes flew open, breaking her concentration.

“You almost had it, love,” Killian said quietly. “Try it again.”

“I agree with the Captain,” Tinkerbell said, looking excited. “Go on.”

Emma cocked her head and shrugged. She resumed her place and focused. _Close._ There was a whoosh around her and she heard the doors close with a heavy thud. Emma opened her eyes and sure enough, the doors _were_ closed. “I did it!”

“You certainly did,” Tinkerbell said. “Now open them again.”

Flushed with success, Emma didn't even close her eyes this time. She looked right at the doors and willed them to open with a flick of her wrist.

“That was bloody brilliant, darling,” Killian said, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“They're just _doors_ , Killian.” But her cheeks were pink from his praise.

“Aye, but think of all the other things you can open now,” he said, waggling his brows at her, a smirk on his lips. Leave it to Killian to find the _filthiest_ application for her skills. But she made a mental note to try it in the future.

Tinkerbell ignored their exchange, tittering impatiently. “There's so much more I think we can try, if you two could stop flirting for five minutes.”

Emma bit her lip, glancing at Killian. Neither of them were very apologetic. This was the best Emma had felt since she'd found out about the prophecy. And if emotions fueled her magic, then she was going to hang on to every good feeling she could.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the Great Hall. Tinkerbell sent various tasks and Emma tried to complete them as best she could. They weren't stupid ones like moving rocks and lighting candles. She levitated her mother's throne, changed the colors in the stained glass windows before returning them to normal, summoned objects from across the room, even sent Killian's hook into the rafters before retrieving it for him, much to his amusement. Tinkerbell was enthusiastic and warm where the Blue Fairy was demanding and in Emma's estimation unduly critical. It was a very welcome change.

When the sun finally sank below the window sash, Tinkerbell held up her hands in surrender. “That's enough for today. You're doing really well, princess. When I return in a few days, we'll start teleporting and conjuring things out of thin air.”

“A few days?” Emma asked, a bit disappointed. “Not tomorrow.”

Killian scratched under his ear nervously. “I took the liberty of asking the Lady Bell if you could have a couple days grace, love.”

“What for?” Now that magic seemed more _fun_ and less like a burden, she wanted to continue.

“You remember what tomorrow is, Emma?”

Emma's brow knitted in thought. Then she felt a bit foolish when she remembered. “Oh. Right. Sorry.” The days were starting to bleed together from all the upheaval and stress she'd been under. Tomorrow was her twentieth birthday.

* * *

“Seriously, where are we going?”

Killian laughed; Emma could _feel_ the vibrations against her back. It was _all_ she could do, since she couldn't actually _see_ him. The damn pirate had _blindfolded_ her!

“Where would be the fun be if I told you, darling? It's a _surprise_.”

Emma huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Probably not the best move she could have made considering how precariously she was balanced in front of him in the saddle. He wouldn't even let her ride her own horse, had insisted on riding double to their mystery destination. Killian tightened his hooked arm around her middle, keeping her pressed against his chest; Emma mentally cursed her body for reacting to his proximity. It seemed to be doing that more and more lately. Her attraction to him was potent—to say the _least—_ since she met him, but as she settled into her pregnancy, she was starting to _need_ him more and more. It had kind of freaked her out at first—surely such things couldn't be _normal—_ but her mother had assured her it was. _That_ had been unlike any conversation she'd ever had with her mother, but she'd felt better and less like there was something wrong with her or her son. Killian certainly wasn't complaining. She wondered if that would change when they could actually _see_ evidence of Liam growing inside her.

“Don't be like that, love. Can't a man surprise his beloved wife on her birthday?”

“I've never been fond of surprises,” she groused, even though she knew she was being ridiculous.

“You'll like this one. I thought we could both use some time away from the castle, but if you'd rather go back...”

Emma sighed. “No, it's fine. And you're right, some time off sounds heavenly. But do I have to be blindfolded?”

“Yes,” Killian said. He leaned close; Emma could feel his breath on her ear. “I promise you can return the favor at some later date, darling.”

“Why wait?” Emma asked, her voice huskier than she intended. She uncurled her arms and brushed her hand over one of his thighs. “It _is_ my birthday, after all.”

Killian inhaled sharply, not missing her meaning at _all._ “Because I have plans for you today, love,” he said quietly, shifting behind her in the saddle. “Plans that will leave you _very_ satisfied, I assure you.”

“Well, now I'm intrigued, Captain.”

“Good thing we're almost there then.” Killian rested his hand over hers, the leather reins trapped between them. “I hope you like it.” He didn't sound quite as sure of himself as he had earlier and Emma felt her earlier irritation melt away.

“I'm sure I'll love it. You'll be there.”

Emma wasn't sure how long it took, but it seemed like only a few more minutes until Killian reined the horse to a stop. He kissed her cheek, then hopped off, reaching up to lift her down since she couldn't see. “Stay here, love. Be right back.” It _sounded_ like he was hobbling their horse; so they were staying a _while_ then. The warm breeze caressed her face; it would probably be one of the last warm days of the year. Her birthday was in late October; it was often hit or miss weather wise. They were lucky the days remained relatively warm; the nights were starting to get cold.

She jumped a little when Killian came back and took her hand. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“Lost in thought, princess?”

“A little. This is so different from my last birthday.”

“Good or bad?”

Emma squeezed his hand. “Definitely good.”

“Believe it or not, it actually gets better,” he said dryly. He curled her hand around his arm and tugged gently. “Come.”

Emma followed his lead, walking through what she was fairly certain was grass. Her simple skirt swished around her legs; Killian hadn't wanted her to get too dressed up, no one would be where they were going but them. And if Emma knew Killian, it wasn't likely she'd be spending a lot of time _in_ her clothes. They'd only been walking for a few minutes when she heard the sound of rushing water. The air around them seemed just a tiny bit cooler and definitely thicker. “Killian, where are we?”

He brought them to a stop; Emma could almost _feel_ the nervousness rolling off him. “Here, let me,” he said quietly. She felt the knot behind her head loosen, then the silk blindfold fell away completely.

Emma blinked at the abrupt return of light. When she could finally focus again, her eyes widened in shock. They were standing in a small secluded grotto, complete with a waterfall that fed into a rolling creek. Tree of all kinds surrounded them, shielding them from the outside. Many of the trees' leaves were beginning to change color, late blooming flowers littered the bank of the creek. It was beautiful.

“Killian...”

“Do you not like it?”

She turned to him, throwing herself into his arms. “I _love_ it.”

He hugged her close, his hand cradling her head. “I immediately thought of you when I saw it for the first time,” he murmured into her hair. “It felt magical, just like you.”

Emma flushed. A fearsome pirate he may have been, but he was incredibly caring and sweet. Gods, she loved him, more than she'd ever thought she could love anyone. “And how long have you been planning this?”

“Ever since your father mentioned that your birthday was approaching. Why didn't you tell me?”

“I just...forgot, I guess. Usually my birthday is some kind of public holiday, since I'm the heir to the throne. I didn't want to drag you into it.”

“Which is why I convinced your parents to let me take you _out_ today. You'll be on display soon enough.”

“Are you ready for all that?” There were still moments she half expected him to declare he'd made a terrible mistake and sail off.Life at court wasn't for everyone.

“As soon as your mother manages to wrangle me for those new clothes she insists on forcing me to wear.”

Emma laughed. “You are kind of avoiding her. I went through it. Surely you can too.”

“The bloody thing's still three weeks away!”

Emma grinned knowingly. “Would you like me to come with you? Maria doesn't bite, you know.”

Killian grimaced. “Fine. Tomorrow. I just want to spend today celebrating with you.”

“We're having a celebration?”

Killian leaned down and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Oh yes, love. A very special _private_ celebration.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I thought you might.”

The surprises kept coming apparently. Killian went back to where their horse was tethered, returning with a blanket and some cushions. Emma spread out the soft blanket while Killian made one last trip, this time carrying his satchel and a small basket. “I had Edith in the kitchens make a few of your favorite things, I hope you don't mind.”

“As long as there's a cherry tart in there, I'm good,” Emma said with a grin. She'd started craving them recently, the first of many such cravings she was certain. It didn't seem like she'd put on much if any weight yet, not that she was complaining.

“But of course.”

“You're amazing.”

“You'll want for nothing during this pregnancy, darling. I have every intention of looking after you and little Liam.”

“Good, because I think I'm going to be craving more than just food,” Emma retorted with a smirk.

Killian wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “And what would that be?” he asked, a knowing brow raised.

Emma's hands slipped under his coat and down over the curve of his ass. “Oh I think you know, Captain,” she said, giving him a firm squeeze.

Killian groaned. “Minx.” He captured her lips in a far too brief fiery kiss, before pulling away. “Which would the princess be craving right now?

Whatever was in the basket could wait. Emma moved her hands back up to his shoulders, pushing the heavy leather off, Killian letting go of her long enough for it to fall to the ground with a dull thump. “You.” She yanked on his charms, pulling him back down to her. She kissed him deeply, toeing off her shoes and hauling her skirt up. Killian was right behind her, his hand and hook moving under her thighs and lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, groaning into the kiss when she felt his hardening cock pressed against her center.

Killian spun them around and Emma found herself pressed back up against one of the maple trees. The bark dug a bit into her skin, but she didn't care. Her gasp melted into a moan as Killian rocked his hips against hers. “Is that what you want, love?” he breathed, his teeth scraping over her neck.

“Gods, yes.” Her hands flew to his head, tugging on the dark strands as his mouth continued assaulting her skin. She heard a rip as his hook cut her dress a bit near the waist. A flood of heat pooled in her belly, even that small thing turning her on. Her desire seemed to sit on a hair trigger lately and she planned on taking full advantage. She ground her hips against him wantonly, arching her back into his wandering touch. “I need you, Killian,” she pleaded. “I need you _in_ me.”

“As you wish.” Killian reached between them and deftly unlaced his pants, just enough to get his cock free of the confines. Emma hissed when she felt him brush against her soaked underwear, frustrated by that final barrier. Killian shoved the material aside, taking her in one practiced stroke, their mutual groans filling the air.

“Fuck, yes,” Emma breathed, her hands on either side of his face, dragging his lips back to hers. “Hurry.” She didn't want slow and steady, she wanted him to take her hard and fast until she was screaming his name.

“Gods, Emma.” He did as she bid, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, all the way to the hilt. He was relentless, moving just the way she liked as she clung to his shoulders, merely along for the ride. He hit her deep like this, filling her completely. She whimpered, biting her lip, when he hit _that_ spot inside her.

“ _There,_ Killian. Gods, _more_.” Her legs were already trembling, she tightened them around his waist, driving him deeper inside. _“Fuck_.”

Killian grunted, not slowing his thrusts. “Come,” he demanded. _“Now.”_

She couldn't have ignored him even if she wanted to. Her orgasm ripped through her, nails digging into his shirt, his name tearing from her throat. Killian thrust through it, drawing it out until he yelled hoarsely, spilling himself inside her. Emma felt limp and tired; being pinned to the tree was the only thing holding her up. Killian recovered first, maneuvering them back to the blanket and kneeling down. He encouraged Emma to unwind her legs and lay back against the cushion.

He brushed some hair back from her sweaty brow. “Better now, princess?”

She smiled weakly. “Yeah.”

Killian pulled her dress down and straightened his own clothes a bit. He tugged off his boots and lay down next to her. “I'm not through with you yet, love. But we'll rest and eat, yeah?”

“Sure,” she mumbled. Her eyes fell closed; she only meant to rest them for a few minutes, but she must have dozed. Because when she opened her eyes again, Killian was sitting up, digging in the basket. “Hey.”

“I thought the smell of food would rouse you,” he said with a smile.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Only an hour or so. We've got plenty of time before we have to return.”

“Good, I didn't want to spend all our time sleeping.” Emma sat up and crossing her legs under her skirt. The strain on the fabric pulled at the forgotten tear in her dress. “You tore it,” she mock complained.

Killian shrugged. “My wife was being very...demanding. I was merely answering the call, love. You seemed to enjoy it.”

Emma found herself blushing. “Things might get more...demanding over the next few months, you know.”

Killian reached over and thumbed the pink warm skin of her cheek. “I am very much looking forward to that.”

Emma turned her head and kissed his palm, her love for him squeezing her heart. She was so lucky to have him. “So...what goodies do we have to eat?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Well, there's that baked chicken you like,” Killian replied, pulling out a plate and starting to fill it. “Strawberries, grapes, some cheese and of course, your cherry tart.”

“What did you have to do to get all this?” she teased.

“I can be very charming, love,” he shot back with a grin. He handed her the plate, his fingers brushing hers.”Go on, eat up. I bet the little one is hungry too.”

“Hmm, yeah, I'm starving actually.” She accepted the fork and knife he offered her and dove in, calming her growling stomach. “This is really good.”

Killian grinned at her, spearing a piece of cheese on the end of his hook and taking a bite. They ate in companionable silence, just enjoying being together. It would only be the two of them for a few more months. Soon they'd have Liam and as much as she was looking forward to having their son, she hoped they didn't lose...this.

After lunch, Emma leaned back against Killian's chest, her head tucked under his chin. She laced her fingers with his over her stomach. “Do you think things will be different?”

“I'm not following you, love.”

“When the baby comes. Do you think things with us will be different?”

“You mean, are you still going to be the ravishing brilliant woman I fell in love with? Of course you will.”

“You don't know that.”

Killian turned her a bit in his arms, bringing his hand up to cradle her face. “Emma, _nothing_ is going to change the way I feel about you. Having this child with you is more than I ever dreamed of. And I am _always_ going to want you.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And now I have a gift for you.”

“A gift? You didn't have to, Killian.”

“Of course I did, my love.” He reached for his coat, fishing in one of the pockets for something. He pulled out a small box and handed it to her with a hopeful smile. “Happy birthday, Emma.”

Emma bit her lip, lifting the lid on the box. She gasped when she saw what was in it. “Oh, Killian. It's _beautiful.”_

“For years, my life revolved around my ship. It was my anchor. Now that anchor is _you_. And our son. Our family is all that I want.”

Emma leaned up and kissed him, allowing her closed eyes to hold in the tears that threatened to spill onto her cheeks. When she pulled away, she was smiling. “Put it on for me?”

“It would be my pleasure.” Emma pulled the necklace out and handed it to him. She didn't miss how the chain was long enough that it could just be slipped over her head. She ducked her head, allowing him to slip it over. She pulled her hair through; the silver anchor charm settling down just above her breasts.

“Thank you, Killian. I love you.”

“And I you, my beautiful princess.”

Emma smiled and pressed herself against him, kissing him firmly. Killian cupped her cheek, gently pushing her back onto the blanket. He kept the kiss slow and languid, stealing her breath. Slowly, their clothes fell away until they were both naked under the autumn afternoon sun. Killian kissed down the valley of her breasts, hand trailing over her skin.

“Lie still, darling,” he whispered. Emma was confused only for a second, then she saw him return with his rum flask.

“You know I can't,” she said with a small smile.

“Oh, this isn't for you, darling. At least not directly.” He gave her that far too sexy grin and pulled the stopper out with his mouth, spitting it aside. Then he poured a bit of the rum over her stomach. “I'm making myself a treat.” He lowered his head licked a bit off her skin, humming in satisfaction. “Aye, quite the tasty treat.” He splashed more of the rum over her skin, pouring a healthy dose into her belly button. He laid the empty flask aside and turned back to her, wrapping his lips around her pert nipple and suckling.

Emma moaned, back arching. Killian pulled away abruptly. “Aha, princess. You'll spill it.” He licked the pebbled flesh, lapping at the rum. “Are you gonna stay still for me, lass?”

“Yes,” Emma breathed, her skin tingling. “Still.” She just didn't want him to stop.

“There's a good girl.” He went back to her skin, lapping and sucking at the rum. Emma tried not to move, but it was difficult. Her fingers curled into the blanket, hips rocking gently. When he got to her belly button, he lapped at the rum with his tongue until it was gone. “You taste divine, darling.”

“Killian...gods, please don't stop.”

“Oh, I won't, love. Not ever.” He loomed over her, a feral grin on his face. “You're _mine._ ” He brushed his thumb along the underside of her breast before lowering his mouth to her nipple and scraping his teeth over it. Emma moaned and arched, no longer caring about staying still. Heat pooled in her stomach once more and she grabbed at his hair, wanting to keep him exactly where he was. Even though they were in a secluded place, they were still in the open, still naked and it added a certain thrill to what they were doing.

“Killian...”

His hand slid down her stomach to the apex of her thighs, fingers slipping through her folds. “You are so wet, Emma.”

Emma groaned, rolling her hips into his touch. He teased her entrance with his finger, making her shiver and writhe under him. “Killian,” she whined. “Stop teasing.”

“Very well.” He slid down her body, until his dark head rested between her spread thighs. He licked a stripe through her folds, his nose nudging her aching clit. She rocked against him, tension coiling low within her. Killian wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, hard. Emma cried out, hips bucking up against him. Killian hummed against her sopping flesh, bringing his fingers up. His mouth stayed on her clit as his fingers slipped inside, scissoring gently.

Emma gasped, back arching. “Fuck!”

Killian pulled away for a breath. “You are so beautiful, darling.” His mouth was back on her before she could get enough breath to reply, tongue tapping against her clit. Emma mewled loudly, hand diving into his hair, tugging on it sharply. Killian moved faster, sensing that she was close. Emma writhed in his hold, her muscles beginning to tremble.

“Killian... _please_.” She didn't even understand what she was begging for, she just _needed_.

Killian curled his fingers inside her, finally hitting the spot she needed. Emma bucked wildly against him, the pleasure almost overwhelming. Her back bowed as she climaxed, Killian drawing it out with his mouth and hand, until she couldn't _breathe_. She wouldn't be surprised if this was the cause of her death someday; the things he made her feel were to intense to be _real_.

And still when she finally managed to drag her eyelids open, there he was grinning smugly over at her, hand stroking his cock slowly. Her eyes widened a bit, a tiny whimper spilling from her lips. He got so turned on by bringing her pleasure, always. She licked her lips, her hand reaching out.

“There something you want, love?”

Emma swallowed, pulling back her hand. Her eyes flickered over to his too blue ones, burning with lust. “Don't stop,” she said simply. It was _her_ birthday and she was going to start calling the shots.

Killian groaned. “Bloody siren.”

She leaned down to brush her lips over his ear. “You can wash me off after.” The waterfall and creek were _right there_. It would be some kind of crime of they didn't take advantage of that.

“ _Fuck,”_ he grunted. His hand moved faster, thumb swiping over the head. “More, love.”

Emma bit her lip, her eyes locked on he movements of his hand. “I like when you fuck me from behind,” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She wasn't sure he could even hear her over the sound of the waterfall, but he did. She could tell by the strangled moan that filled the air. “Hard and deep until I beg you to stop, to let me come. Gods, it feels so good, Killian. I didn't know anything could feel that good. But you...you fill me up, I feel  _full_ when you're inside me.”

Killian's face contorted in pleasure, his hips rocking up into his hand, mimicking the way he moved when he fucked her.  _“Close,”_ he bit out. “Fuck, Emma.”

“Before we leave here, I want you to fuck me like that, Killian. I want to fuck me until I can't walk.”

Killian screamed hoarsely, rolling on his side, hand pumping madly, his seed spilling over her stomach and breasts. Emma moaned, awestruck that she had done that to him, that she had made him lose control like that. Killian slumped back against the blanket, breathing hard, his hand resting now on his stomach. She was warm and sticky from the rum and his release, but she couldn't find it in her to care. She, Emma, had the infamous Captain Hook wrapped around her finger; it was a heady feeling.

“You okay?” Emma asked, after he was uncharacteristically quiet for awhile.

“Never better, darling.” He rolled onto his side again, looking over her from head to toe. “You are _filthy_.”

She knew he wasn't just talking about the state of her skin. As for the other...it was something he brought out in her. She doubted she could ever be like this with anyone else. “We should do something about that,” she teased.

“On the contrary, love. I find it rather fetching.”

“I did promise that you could wash me.”

“That you did.” Abruptly, Killian got on his knees and slipped his arms under, picking her up effortlessly. “I hope you can swim, princess.”

“Killian!” Emma shrieked. “Put me down!”

“But you're dirty. So we're getting you clean,” he replied with a smirk. Emma fought him half-heartedly as they approached the bank; she didn't want them to topple over. As she suspected, the moment they'd waded out far enough, Killian tossed her into the water, laughing.

Emma submerged completely, her ass hitting the bottom before she kicked her way back to the surface. She broke through spluttering and drenched, looking around for Killian. The moment she found him—grinning happily down at her—she splashed him, soaking him as well.

“Come now, darling, I was only having a little fun!” he cried, pretending to be annoyed.

“So am I,” she retorted with a saucy grin. She splashed him again, then turned, swimming away from him. Her parents had ensured she learned how to swim at an early age, especially since their castle was right there by the water. She actually loved it, even if she didn't get to do it as much as she liked.

Killian bellowed at her antics and dove in to follow her. It occurred to her that he might be at an unfair disadvantage with his stump, but she needn't have worried. Like almost everything else, Killian had adapted to his circumstances. She came up for air, looking around for him. She was just on the edge of getting worried when a large hand wrapped around her ankle and yanked her down under the water. A moment later they both emerged, Emma locked in his arms, back against his chest.

“Looks like I've captured myself a princess,” Killian murmured in her ear.

Emma slid her head along his shoulder until she was looking up at him. “Or perhaps, I've caught myself a pirate.”

“Indeed.” Killian spun her around and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. Emma felt weightless in the water, running her hands through his soaked hair. He was even more gorgeous wet, if that were even possible. She ran her fingers over his scruff, drawing his lips to hers. She kissed him thoroughly, exploring his mouth like she was memorizing him all over again. Her nipples brushed against the wet hair of his chest as she pressed herself closer, making her hiss and groan.

Killian groaned, his hand leaving her hip and coming up to caress her breast. “Bit more sensitive, aren't they?” he mumbled against her lips.

Emma arched into his touch, a bolt of desire shooting down her spine. “Yeah, I think so. Gods, that feels good.”

Killian urged her to lean back a bit, using the buoyancy of the water to hold her up. He licked the water off her skin, Emma running her fingers through the wet black strands of his hair. She was leaning back so far, the back of her head was in the water, hair fanning out behind her. She gasped and arched when he got to her breast, his hot mouth teasing the more sensitive flesh. Emma tightened her legs, desperate to hold herself up under his onslaught, mouth and hand working her into a frenzy.

“Fuck, Emma,” Killian breathed, teeth scraping over her taut peak. His hand released her breast and slipped between them, finding her throbbing clit. “Again? Do you want me to make you come again?”

“Gods, yes.” Perhaps it was her pregnancy that was driving this seemingly neverending desire for him, but it didn't matter. She just needed release, needed _him_.

Killian lowered his mouth to her nipple again, attacking it with gusto. He nibbled and sucked, his fingers rolling her clit in hard, fast circles. Emma whimpered and mewled, bucking against him under the water, ripples rolling out from around them. Killian switched his attentions, his mouth doing absolutely wicked things to her. Emma clung to his neck for dear life, helpless to do anything else. She was awash in pleasure, just letting herself  _feel._

“Come on, princess,” Killian coaxed, his voice low, shooting straight to her core. “Come for me.”

He pinched her clit hard and sucked her nipple back into his mouth, biting down on the peak. It felt like a shock racing through her veins, her climax stealing her breath, stars popping behind her eyes. Her body shuddered as Killian kept touching her, drawing it out for as long as he could, until she finally went limp in his arms.

“You are so bloody amazing when you come, Emma,” he whispered against her skin. He kissed her chest just above where her anchor rested on her wet skin. “I just want to watch you over and over again.”

Emma hummed vaguely, too out of it to really answer him. Killian gathered her against his chest, walking them over to the waterfall. The slightly cooler water brought her back to reality as he ducked them under it. Behind the cascading water, there was a small cave. It was shaded, cooler than their spot on the creek bank, with moss growing along the floor.

“Here, let's get you nice and clean,” Killian said above the roar of the water. “Can you stand, love?”

Emma nodded. “Yeah.” She unwound her legs—they were a bit wobbly, but not unduly so. She held on to Killian anyway, not wanting to risk slipping on a wet rock.

“Stand under the waterfall, Emma. I'll be right here.”

Emma did as he asked, gasping again at the cool water. She brushed her wet hair back from her face, Killian running his hand over her skin, the running water sluicing any lingering dirt off. They switched places, Emma leaning against the edge of the cave while Killian washed. Her eyes never left him, even after all this time mesmerized by his toned muscled body. She licked her lips, picturing some of the things he did to her with that body. Killian seemed to sense her stare, his hand lingering longer than was strictly necessary on his chest and stomach. She knew he'd noticed when he bent over, giving her an unimpeded view of his perfect ass. Her fingers itched to reach out and squeeze as heat pooled again in her belly.

“Killian...”

He stood and turned, a smirk on his lips. “Yes, love?”

“Get over here,” she commanded. She didn't miss the throbbing erection he was sporting as he advanced on her. “Again?”

“Well, there was a princess earlier who practically _begged_ me to take her from behind,” Killian said, trapping her between his body and the lip of the cave. “You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”

Emma shivered. “Sounds like a not very proper princess to me.”

Killian ran his finger along the line of her jaw. “Oh, she's definitely not proper at all. Positively  _naughty_ if you ask me.”

“And you like that?”

Killian pressed his cock against her stomach. “You tell me, love.”

Emma curled her hand around it, stroking slowly. “I think you should quit  _talking_ and take your princess, Captain.”

Killian captured her lips, his hand yanking on her wet hair. He pulled her head back, kissing the column of her throat. His stump slipped behind her thighs, urging her to hop up. Emma did so, the moss slightly rough against her skin. Killian followed her, laying her out on the mossy carpet. Just like he did when she was covered in rum, he licked her skin until it felt like she would melt from want.

“Killian, please. Please fuck me.”

He slipped a single digit inside her, making sure she was ready for him. She'd asked to be  _taken_ , for him to  _fuck_ her until she begged him to stop. She knew from the way his nearly black eyes looked into hers that he intended on doing just that.

“On your knees, princess.” Emma scrambled to obey, the moss scratching at her knees and hands. Killian ran his hand over her ass, giving her a brief smack. “You're going to scream for me, Emma. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” She felt him, hot and heavy, against the cleft of her ass, sliding down to her soaking entrance. He teased her, the tip just barely slipping in, before disappearing. “Killian,” she whined.

He was there again, pushing in excruciatingly slowly, until he was fully sheathed inside her. “Fuck, so tight,” he moaned. “Can you feel that, Emma? Feel me filling you up?”

“Yes! So good, Killian.” She rocked her hips back, needing him to move.

Her movement broke the spell and Killian growled. He pulled back and slammed back in, just as she asked, the dam on his restraint broken. He took her with hard deep strokes, words of praise tumbling from his lips. His fingers dug into her hip, hard enough to bruise, but she relished it.

“Gonna fuck this arse someday, Emma,” Killian panted. “Are you gonna let me?”

Emma felt a frission of desire race through her at that. He'd teased her about that before; she wondered how long he'd been thinking about it. She couldn't deny the idea intrigued her, after the way he teased her on the  _Jolly Roger_ . “Yes,” she said.

Killian groaned. He picked up his pace, clearly turned on by her confession. Emma could feel her orgasm approaching, the hot tension building in her stomach. Just when she thought it would crash over her, Killian backed off, slowing his strokes. Emma mewled in protest, nails scratching at the moss covered ground, furious at being denied. When it happened twice more, she snapped.

“Gods, I _need_ to come,” she pleaded. “Please just let me come.” She sounded needy and desperate, but she swore she would lose her mind if he didn't give her release _soon._

Killian laughed darkly, adjusting his stroke again until he was hitting her just right. It hit her suddenly, leaving her helpless to do anything but scream his name. It echoed off the walls of the cave, his own shout following right after. He had hardly slipped out of her when she collapsed against the mossy ground,  _finally_ sated. She felt utterly boneless, her body unable to heed the commands of her brain. She heard Killian fall next to her, grunting as he hit the hard ground. The moss wasn't much cushion.

He pulled her against his chest, kissing her wet hair. “Please tell me I didn't hurt you,” he said softly. His concern pulled at her foggy awareness.

“'M fine.”

He tightened his arms around her. “You drive me so wild sometimes, darling.”

“I know how you feel,” Emma replied, a soft smile on her lips. “But I know you'd never hurt me on purpose.”

“How's little Liam?”

“Probably very happy his mother is finally exhausted,” she said with a laugh.

“His papa is too. Is it going to always be like this?”

Emma shrugged. “I'm not sure. For a while, I think. Until I become too...unwieldy? I'm not even showing yet, Killian.”

“Then I shall do my best to keep you satisfied.”

“You always do.”

They stayed there until Killian regained a bit of his strength. He had to carry her back to their blanket; he definitely succeeded in fucking her until she couldn't walk. Once he laid her down, Killian pulled on his pants before grabbing his long coat. He covered her with it and drew her back into his arms. He hummed one of her favorite sea shanties while he stroked her hair. Her eyes grew heavy with sleep fairly quickly. The last thing she heard before slipping under was Killian's soft, “happy birthday, my love.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

“Killian...”

 

It was a testament to how hard the last few weeks had been...Killian was awake almost instantly. He'd become finely attuned to Emma calling out for him in her sleep since her fiery nightmares had begun. It seemed like she had gotten a handle on them since her birthday, almost a week ago. But Killian still found himself waking in the middle of the night to make sure she was sound asleep, just in case.

He blinked through the faint dawn light, rolling on his side to look at her. And froze.

Emma was dreaming alright, but it was _not_ a nightmare she was having.

The sheet was twisted around her legs; he could make out the outline of her hips rocking slightly under the linen. She was wearing one of his black shirts—her only concession to the colder nights—which did nothing to hide the taut peaks of her nipples, straining under the fabric, pulled tight across her skin as she moved. One hand had the pillow in a death grip, tiny whimpers and moans tumbling from her slightly parted lips.

“More,” she murmured, still asleep. “Killian, gods.”

He took comfort that it was  _he_ that she dreamed about; whatever his dream self was doing to her, she was enjoying it. He couldn't recall her ever having a  _sex_ dream about him; gods knew he'd had them about her. So many bloody times in those weeks they'd been separated. He woke up hot and sweaty and sticky, instantly feeling the loss when he woke up alone. But Emma wasn't alone. She was right there in front of him, making sounds that went straight to his cock. It was mere moments before he was aching for her.

“Gods, love,” he muttered. “I do think you're trying to kill me.”

Killian reached over and brushed some hair away from her beautiful face; Emma reacted to his touch instinctively, leaning into him. He was loathe to wake her, but her body sought his, giving all the appearance of sleep as she rubbed up against him. He let out a shaky breath, finally allowing his hand to rest on her hip. He thought of all the times she'd woken him up with her lips around his cock, sucking him off first thing in the morning (or not as the case may be). It was the best way to wake up in Killian's opinion, with his gorgeous wife's hot wet mouth doing wicked and wonderful things to him. He thought it was time he returned the favor.

His hand slipped under the sheet and deftly slid the linens away from her long bare legs. He kept his touch light, not ready to wake her quite yet, just enjoying the feeling her smooth skin under his palm. He slipped his knee between her legs, suppressing a groan as she rocked into him. He could  _feel_ the heat of her against his thigh, the wetness. Curious, he slowly slipped a finger to the apex of her thighs. She was soaked, her arousal coating the inside of her thighs.

Killian bit his lip, forcing himself to stay still, to  _not_ be selfish and throw her on her back and just  _take_ her. He wanted her awake first. Instead, he slid his hand upwards, under his borrowed shirt, until he could palm her breast. He kneaded the soft flesh gently, testing the weight of it in his hand. He couldn't be  _certain_ but it did seem a tad bigger than he remembered. Her breasts were certainly more sensitive now; her body beginning the changes that would bring their son into the world. Killian knew Emma was afraid of how he would react to those changes, if he would still want her the way he did now, but Killian wasn't worried. Emma practically  _glowed_ with happiness and if was honest with himself...knowing she was that way because of  _him_ , that it was  _his_ child she carried...he wanted her as much as he ever did. And would until it was physically impossible or she ordered him away.

Emma moaned softly again, back arching into his touch. Killian brushed his thumb over her taut peak, lowering his head to mouth at the other through the black fabric. If she wanted him, then who was he to deny her?

Killian could tell the instant she woke, her hand coming up to cover his through her shirt. “Killian.” Her voice was sleepy, but not surprised.

He said nothing, merely nudged the linen away from her breast with his nose and sucking the pert nipple into his mouth. He used the extra sensitivity to his advantage, wanting her writhing against him, begging for relief.

“Oh,” Emma breathed. “Was I...was I dreaming?”

Killian hummed against her skin, releasing her with a faint smacking sound. “Aye, love.” He raised his leg up to skim over her slick folds; Emma hissed in response. “Sounded like a good dream.”

Emma reached over, pulling his lips up to hers, not quite brushing his. “And you decided to make it better?”

“Aye.”

“Good.” She closed the minuscule gap, pressing her lips firmly against his. Killian moaned into it, thrilled that she was awake and eager for him. He had no problems with needy, wanton Emma. He turned his head, deepening the kiss, slipping his tongue past her lips, hand coming up and threading through her golden tresses. Emma responded in kind, tugging on his hair, nails scratching lightly down his back. “Gods, why do I always want you so much?” she panted, when they paused for air.

“Not complaining, darling,” he mumbled, lips leaving a wet trail down her neck and into the deep V of his borrowed shirt. He sucked on the swell of her breasts, unable to get enough of the taste of her skin. Emma impatiently pulled on the fabric, trying to get it off. Killian pulled back long enough to allow her to strip off their only barrier before he had her on her back, covering her body with his. He slipped easily into the cradle of her thighs, having done it a thousand times before. He never got tired of how this felt, of how his body seemed to burn for hers. _“Emma.”_

Emma mewled under him, her hands sliding down his back until she could squeeze his ass firmly. “Yes?”

Killian braced himself on his left arm, looking down into her eyes. He saw the desire he felt reflected there, like it was threatening to burn her alive. “Tell me about this dream of yours, lass.” Hearing her talk about the things she wanted him to do to her drove him crazy.

Emma bit her kiss swollen lips as she gazed up at him, unashamed. She was so much more comfortable with her body and its needs since he met her; she was a vision. “I was...sitting on your face,” she said, her voice low, all traces of sleep gone now. “And you were fucking me with your tongue.”

He could see it in his mind: Emma naked above him, kneeling over his face, hanging on for dear life as he used his mouth to bring her pleasure. As much as he ached for her, he could give her that first. Killian leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss as he rolled them onto his back. He rocked his hips into hers, making them both groan. “Go on then,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Up you get.”

“Killian?”

He smacked her ass lightly. “Do I need to tell you again, lass?”

Emma's face broke out into a grin as she sat up and hurried to comply. She obviously hadn't expected him to indulge her little fantasy, but there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. Her knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his head and Killian wrapped his arms loosely around her thighs.

“Hang on, love,” he said, turning his head and kissing the inside of her thigh. He heard rather than saw her grab a hold of the headboard to their bed, bracing herself, her body shivering in his arms. He blew a gentle warm breath over her slick flesh, his tongue darting out and licking a stripe across her slit. “You taste divine, Emma.”

Emma moaned, her hips moving of their own volition. “Killian...please.”

He pulled her down by the legs until she hovered right over his mouth. He could just make out her face just past her still flat stomach and the perfect curve of her breasts. Her eyes were closed, lips parted. When she licked her lips, Killian followed suit, burying his face in her cunt, tongue licking at the sensitive skin. Emma yelped above him, but it melted into a moan quickly as she gave herself over to the sensations.

He'd done this for her many times, albeit from a different position. But he knew all places that drove her wild with want. He sucked her clit into his mouth, teasing the throbbing bud mercilessly with his tongue and teeth. Emma bucked in his hold, trying to fuck his mouth with her hips, but he held her firmly, thoroughly enjoying the moans and curses that filled the air.

“Fuck...Killian...gods,” she gasped. “Feels so good.”

Not through with her yet, he released her clit with groan. “Touch yourself, Emma,” he ordered. “Twirl those pretty nipples for me.” He would make this good for her, but it was fine balance, his own need sitting on a knife's edge. The sooner he got her off, the better.

Emma nodded furiously, one hand letting go of the headboard and falling unerringly to her breast. She palmed it, moaning, kneading the soft flesh as Killian had earlier. Satisfied, Killian resumed his task, plunging his tongue into her dripping entrance and fucking her just like he had in her dream. He worked her vigorously from top to bottom, feeling the tension in her body increase, her sounds of pleasure get louder.

“ _So fucking close,”_ Emma whimpered.

Killian moved back to her clit, biting down on it, pinching it between his teeth. Emma screamed above him, hips rocking madly as Killian slid his tongue back inside her, lapping at her release, drawing it out for as long as he could. He heard the wood of the headboard creak ominously until she slumped against it, panting heavily.

Killian gave her a few minutes before he extricated himself out from under her, sitting up to lay her back down on the bed. He settled in close to her, facing her on his side once more. Emma pulled him in for a kiss, unashamedly rubbing her body against his, resuming their dance. He could feel her heart still beating rapidly in her chest, but it was clear that her passion hadn't been slaked. When Emma pulled away for some air, she brought her hand up to swipe her thumb over his lips, which she promptly sucked into her own mouth. “Hmmm.”

Killian groaned, thinking of something  _else_ she could have in her mouth. “Emma...”

Her small delicate hand moved between them, fingers wrapping around his cock. “What?”

“You are bloody insatiable, lass.”

“Comes with my delicate condition. And you, husband, have been awfully patient. Let me?”

He rocked into her hand, eyes fluttering closed. “As long as I get inside you, I don't bloody care.” He'd been craving it ever since she'd first moaned his name, but Killian was a gentleman, seeing to his lady's needs before his own. But if she was offering...

Still on their sides, Killian felt her slip his legs between hers. His cock brushed against her slick folds—gods, she really was insatiable, wet for him again already—a strangled grunt tearing from his throat. She guided him to her, legs coming up to wrap loosely around his hips as he slid inside. Killian opened his eyes at last, grabbing a hold of some of her hair and pulling her down into a fierce kiss. “Gods, I love you.” He punctuated his declaration with a thrust of his hips, slipping in even deeper. He didn't have to go fast like this; Killian was more than willing to take his time now that he was finally where he wanted to be.

He took her with slow deep thrusts, touching everywhere he could reach. He buried his face in her chest, biting and sucking at whatever skin her could reach, taking particular delight in her keening cries as he manipulated her hard peaks with both mouth and hand.

“Fuck, just like that,” Emma said, her hand threaded into his dark hair, back arching. “So good, Killian.”

Pregnancy had obviously loosened her tongue, as she was becoming more vocal and assertive in their love making, which Killian loved. He loved seeing her lose control and know it was all because of him; he had from their very first time. She was  _his_ and he wanted the whole world to know it.

“That's it, love,” he mumbled against her skin. “Let me hear what I do to you.”

He picked up his pace at last; he wasn't going to last much longer, her breathy wanton cries ringing in his ears. “Faster,” she begged. “Oh gods, Killian.  _Faster.”_

He headed her plea the only way he could; Killian rolled them onto Emma's back, where he could plunge into her with complete abandon, giving them to the release they needed so badly. They came together, Emma's body quivering with the force of her climax, mouth open in a silent scream. Killian grunted loudly, spilling himself inside her at last, his head resting on her shoulder. He barely had the presence of mind to roll off her, not wanting to crush her in her condition.

“That was...” Emma began, her breathing still labored, “a nice wake up call.”

Killian grunted. “I hope milady is satisfied?”

Emma gave him a breathy chuckle. “Yeah.” She looked over at him with those beguiling green eyes. “You don't always have to indulge me, you know.”

Killian reached over, laying his stump across her stomach. “I'm your husband; it's my  _duty_ , Emma. It's highly unlikely I'll ever turn down a chance to be with you, lass. You're my siren, remember?”

“I remember.”

Killian yawned. “Although, I wouldn't say no to a little nap right now, love.” He moved closer to her, nuzzling her shoulder. The sun was still barely up; they could sleep for a little while yet.

Somehow, Emma managed to pull the blanket back up. “Sounds good to me.”

* * *

“Come on, Killian! You promised!”

Killian rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I know I did, love. Can't we do it another day?”

She frowned at him. “You've been saying that every day since my birthday. It's not _that_ bad, is it?”

“I still don't see why what I have isn't good enough,” he groused.

Emma wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. “I know all of this is a pain. Why do you think I ran away?”

Killian chuckled, cradling her head against his chest. “I'm sorry I'm being such a berk about this, Emma.” He kissed the top of her head. “We can do it today. But not _all_ day, mind.”

Her face lit up as she smiled at him. Gods, he would do anything she asked if she looked at him like _that_. “I promise.”

He let go of her and offered her his arm. “Then lead on, princess.”

A half hour later, Killian found himself standing on a heavy wood stool, stripped to the waist as Maria—who as it happened was the Queen's personal seamstress—poked and prodded him, measuring and evaluating. He tried to bear it with good humor, but wasn't entirely sure he succeeded. Maria didn't seem to talk much; Emma sat on a small couch watching and teasing him, clearly admiring the view.

They tried several shirts on him, but none of them fit. Every time he put his left arm in, the fabric tore. Cursing, Killian threw the shredded cloth on the floor. “I think we're going to have to try again, love,” he said to Maria apologetically.

“Maria,” Emma said hesitantly, coming over to stand next to the older woman. “Can't you cut Killian a new shirt? One that can accommodate his hook?”

The seamstress looked at him thoughtfully. “I don't see why not. We'll have to make the coat bigger in the sleeve as well.” She got her measuring string back out and retook the measurements for his left arm, this time taking his bulky brace into account. “Give me a few hours and I'll have something. We can at least see if the measurement is right. If it is then all I'll need is the Queen's approval.”

“Approval? For what?” Killian asked. The Queen may be his mother in law, but he wasn't wearing _anything_ that made him look like some stuffed up peacock.

Maria looked at him sternly. “If you'd come here sooner, Captain, you'd already know that. But I have the designs right here.” She moved over to her sewing table and picked up a thick sketchbook.

Killian hopped off his stool, feeling Emma's arm around his waist, her fingers moving over his bare skin in small soothing circles. “Did you know about this, Emma?”

“Why do you think Mother was so anxious to get you here?”

“Am I going to like it?”

“See for yourself.”

Maria returned, carefully opening it to the correct page. “I've been making the King and Queen's clothes for twenty years,” she said, with a nod to Emma. “And I have to say this is the most...unique challenge I've ever had.”

Killian looked down at the page, his eyes widening in surprise. What he saw looked much like his regular clothes, only in blacks and blues, with a high stiff collar and a long coat.

“This one is for the ball,” Maria said quietly. “I thought you'd appreciate keeping as much of the pirate as possible, especially for the slightly less formal occasion.”

“Aye. Any leather?”

“The trousers will be leather, Captain.”

“Show him the other one,” Emma interjected. “It's my favorite.”

Maria turned the page, revealing what Killian presumed was to be his attire for the wedding. His breath caught in his throat; it looked just like his dress uniform from before the moths had gotten to it, only this time it had a captain's rank attached.

“The princess asked for this specifically. It hadn't seen a uniform like this since King Leopold's day, when I was just a girl.”

“Even when I was fresh out of the academy, I doubt my uniform looked this good.” He turned to Emma and kissed her temple. “Thank you, love.” Then his brow furrowed. “Are your gowns in there?”

“Yes, and _no_ , you can't see them. It's a surprise.” She turned back to Maria. “Thank you. The Captain and I will be back later to check on that new shirt.” Maria had the sense to know she was dismissed, careful to take the sketchbook with her as she went off to do her work.

“Back later?” Killian asked as soon as they were alone once more. “Are we going somewhere?”

Emma turned until she was facing him, her free hand running up over his chest and curling behind his neck. She pulled enough to drag him down for a kiss. “I've been waiting to do that since you took your shirt off.”

Killian curled his braced arm around her waist, pulling her close. “The view was satisfactory then?” he said with a smirk.

“More than.”

“Even with this?” Killian asked, bringing his hook back into view.

Emma bit her lip, nodding. “Even with that, but you knew that already, Killian.”

Killian gently brushed the cool metal across the curve of her cheekbone. “It's always nice to hear, princess.” He lowered his head, kissing her chastely. Emma hummed in pleasure, leaning up on her toes to kiss him back before he could get away from her. She pressed herself against him, hands wandering over his bare skin, leaving streaks of warmth behind. She was a gift, so tactile and loving, he couldn't get enough.

He wasn't sure how long they were like that—he just couldn't seem to stop kissing her—only breaking apart when they distinctly heard someone clear their throat loudly from behind them. Killian groaned inwardly when his eyes lit upon the Queen, looking discreetly away. Emma flushed pink, reluctantly stepping back. Killian looked around for his shirt, finding it draped over a stool, and quickly yanked it over his head.

“Is everyone decent now?” Snow White asked.

“There's no need to hide your blushing eyes, your highness,” Killian said.

To his surprise, Snow laughed. “I was merely being polite. I remember what it was like to be young and in love, Captain.”

Emma was still blushing; it wasn't the first time her mother had witnessed them kissing, but then again Killian hadn't been half naked at the time. He put his arm around Emma and eased her into his side. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation into a less embarrassing direction.

“I've been looking for you everywhere, you know. Imagine my surprise when Greta informed me that you were _here_ with her mother, _finally_ allowing the poor woman to do her job,” Snow said with mock sternness.

Killian scratched behind his ear nervously. “Yes, well, Emma was very...persuasive this morning.”

“How did it go?”

Emma spoke up for the first time. “We didn't take his brace into account. Maria's making him a new shirt right now.”

Snow's eyes fell to the glint of metal at Emma's waist. “See, Captain? This is why we needed you _here_. No matter, Maria will have everything sorted soon enough.” She smiled at them, finally holding out the mysterious box she was carrying. “I came though to bring you this. Granny sent it.”

Killian's brow creased, but Emma's face lit up. “Already? I wasn't expecting this for months yet!”

“What is it?” Killian asked.

Emma tore open the box, pulling at the thin paper. The rest of the box fell to the floor as she took a hold of the woolen mass that the box contained. Emma unfolded it so Killian could see what it was.

It was a blanket, specifically a baby's blanket. This one was white with five blue anchors painstakingly woven into it. And up in the right hand corner it read “Liam.”

“The anchors were Granny's idea,” Snow said quietly. “Since my grandson will almost certainly have the sea in his blood.”

“It goes with your necklace,” Killian said, leaning in next to Emma's ear. His arms went around her, holding her from behind as they stared at the gift. “That's our family, Emma.” It was the first tangible proof that it was really happening, that they truly were going to have a child. And Killian found himself blinking back tears. Everything he'd ever wanted was right in front of him.

* * *

Killian tried to keep that thought with him over the next few days. He had everything he wanted. A woman who loved him madly, that he loved just as madly in return, they were expecting a child together. Killian had a _family—_ a true family—for the first time since his beloved brother's death. No, longer than that. Since his _mother's_ death. Charlotte Jones had been the glue that kept the Jones family together, once she passed the facade fell away and everything went to hell. Killian's life had been one adventure after another, never staying too long in one place. Until now.

The two months they'd spent in the castle had been the longest Killian had stayed anywhere since his stint in the naval academy.

Curiously, it didn't feel like that long. The time seemed to have passed quite without Killian's knowledge, caught up as he'd been with Emma's health and getting to know his in laws. Early on, there were days he and Emma hadn't even left their suite, preferring to remain as they had been much of the time since they met: wrapped up in one another. Being with her in any form was intoxicating, a place Killian would much rather be than anywhere else.

And yet, he couldn't deny that he missed the sea. He missed being in a new place almost every day, not knowing what was in the next port. No two days at sea were ever the same and Killian missed that. Sometimes Emma caught him staring out at the bay from their balcony and she'd wrap her arms around him, a tangible reminder of why he was here and why he stayed. She was his home now; he belonged wherever his princess happened to be.

“This seat taken?”

Killian looked up from his tumbler; the King stood next to Killian's table, a bottle of rum in his hands. “As long as you're buying, your highness,” he quipped, gesturing at the bench across from him.

David sat, grabbing a glass of his own from one of the bar wenches as she passed. He poured a couple of fingers worth into the glass before refilling Killian's. “You're a long way from the castle, Captain,” David observed quietly.

“Getting a bit crowded in there, mate,” Killian replied, taking a swig of rum. He relished the burn as it went down.

“With the ball a little over a week away, it's not likely to let up anytime soon.”

“Duly noted.”

“Where's Emma? I thought you'd be with her. You two are practically attached at the hip most days.”

“Your dear wife dragged her off for another fitting of her bloody gown,” Killian complained. Emma had meant to accompany him—today of all days, knowing how hard it would be—but had been overruled by the Queen.

“I heard you finally bowed to the inevitable the other day,” David said with a knowing grin.

“Aye. Couldn't put off any longer. I'm rather fond of my head where it is, thanks.”

“Snow can get a bit...obsessive, I think is the word,” David replied. Killian didn't miss how the King's eyes darted around, almost as if he expected his wife to jump out at him. “Her father had a reputation as a good and welcoming host; she feels obligated to follow in his footsteps. Her mother as well. She lost them both fairly young.”

“My mother died when I was just a boy.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I had my brother; he looked after me, got me my commission.”

“He sounds like an honorable man.”

“He was.” Killian was grateful that Emma had suggested honoring Liam by passing on the name to their son. He could think of no better tribute to the man who raised him, for all intents and purposes.

They drank in silence for a while; Killian got the feeling the conversation wasn't finished. He wasn't feeling particularly chatty, but if the King had come all the way out to the village to find him, then he had a reason.

“So why are you really here, Captain?”

“Can't a man drink in peace?”

“I noticed some of your crew down by the docks on my way,” David replied, undeterred by Killian's tone.

“Emma sent you, didn't she?”

David merely nodded. “She was worried about you.”

“And you wanted to make sure that I was staying,” Killian shot back.

David downed the rest of his drink in one swallow. “I know we didn't get off on the right foot, Killian. However, I know what I saw. You woke Emma with True Love's Kiss and I know you'd rather die than leave her.”

Killian sighed, ashamed at his outburst. “Today I settle the fate of the _Jolly Roger_ , mate.”

“What did you decide?”

Killian poured himself some more rum. “I'm keeping her. Emma, as it happens, was quite insistent on it.”

David smiled. “That sounds like her. Stubborn, just like her mother.”

“Aye. She is that.”

“What about your crew?”

“That, as they say, is the rub.”

“How so?”

“Most pirate crews are a rag tag bunch, mate. Cobbled together from prizes, only loyal to the man who brought them on. When I took over the _Jewel_ and rechristened her the _Jolly Roger_ , I already had a loyal crew. But over the years most of them have either died or moved on. What I have now is something different altogether.” The disloyalty of Randle still rankled, even though he didn't doubt the rest. But those men had signed on to be pirates, not sailors on a glorified yacht.

“There was trouble, wasn't there?”

“A little. Emma acquitted herself quite well, thanks to you.” Killian didn't want to get into the gory details, especially since the man in question was long dead. “But she earned the respect of my men. When I was incapacitated, she bloody well took over my ship!”

“She reminds me so much of Snow,” David said thoughtfully. “Especially now.”

“I don't think Emma realizes just how powerful she is.”

“If you're talking about the magic...”

Killian shook his head. “No, mate. Although she's bloody magnificent in that as well. I mean _her._ She...inspires people. Look, when she came aboard, she insisted on _working_. It wasn't a pleasure cruise. Bloody hell, she saved my life. You see her in her element and she inspires loyalty, you _want_ to follow her wherever she leads. It's a rare gift in one so young.”

“She never seemed interested...before.”

“She doesn't want it. Any of this.” Killian knew Emma was terrified of her powers, didn't want the responsibility that came with them. But he was determined to be there for her in every way he could. “But it's in her blood; I don't want her to be anything less than the incredible woman I fell in love with. I recognized it the moment I saw her.”

“At a trial where you were sentenced to death,” David quipped.

“Aye. I know I don't deserve her. I'm just a lowly pirate. But I'll be at her side as long as she wants me.”

David poured himself another drink as well. “When I met Snow, I had been pretending to be a prince for only a few weeks. Had no idea what I was doing. I grew up on a farm, shepherding sheep, for gods' sake! What did I know? Then I met a bandit princess and everything made sense. I knew that no matter what else I did with my life, as long as Snow was in it that was all that mattered. Learning the ins and outs of being a prince came later.”

“Did it get easier?”

“Eventually.” David tapped the table thoughtfully. “She's better with you, Killian. And you love her. That's all I ever wanted, for my daughter to be loved the way she deserved.”

“I'll spend my life making sure she remains so.”

* * *

_Bugger, it's cold out here,_ Killian thought as he stood on the deck of the  _Jolly Roger_ . Not even the rum he had consumed earlier with the King was doing much to warm him. That's what he got for being outside with an open shirt that bared half his chest, he supposed.  _Gods, Jones, maybe you are going soft._

He looked back toward the castle, suppressing a shiver. He could just make out the balcony to the suite he shared with Emma. She was surely still somewhere deep in the bowels of the castle with her mother being poked and prodded with pins, much like he had been a few days ago. He missed her, even though she was only a long walk away. He missed her whenever she wasn't at his side and that more than anything let him know that this was the right decision. A decision he'd made long ago, if he was being completely honest with himself. He would give up whatever it took to be at her side, even being a pirate.

“Everyone's here, Cap'n,” Smee said, just below him. _Alright, time to get this done. You've made your choice, now they have to make theirs._

Killian took a deep breath and looked out over his assembled crew. He'd known most of them for years, even though only a handful remained from the  _Jewel's_ original crew. He'd very rarely had a man leave for so called greener pastures, something he'd always taken pride in. Because it meant that he was the best. But now he was done. He'd found a greater calling than petty thievery, based in revenge. Killian finally had what he'd dreamed of for so long, a family. And now he had to say goodbye to his other family.

“I suppose you're all wondering why I've called you here,” he began, his voice booming through the chilly air. This was so different from the last time, when he'd commandeered the _Jewel_ and declared them pirates. But it had to be done.

“Where's the princess?” Harrison asked.

Killian snorted, actually surprised at the question. But then he remembered, Harrison was fond of Emma. Perhaps he would be one of the ones that stayed. “Preparing for her welcome home ball, I expect. But she is well, if that's what you're asking.” After the way Emma had announced that she was pregnant, it was impossible for it to be kept from the crew. Perhaps it would make this easier.

There was a general mumble from the crew, as men whispered among themselves. Killian waited for it to die down before continuing. “Mates, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just be out with it. The  _Jolly Roger_ will no longer be a pirate vessel. Seeing as to Emma's delicate condition, I've decided to stay with her here, where she can be looked after until the birth of our son.”

“Well done, Cap'n!” one of the men in the back yelled. Everyone, including Killian, laughed.

“I'll be sure to share those sentiments with my wife, Haynes,” Killian replied with a grin.

“But what happens to us?” another voice asked. Killian looked; it was Lucas. The lad was hardly more than twenty; he'd only been on the _Jolly_ for about two years.

“That, Mr. Lucas, is why I've assembled you here. I won't order any of you to stay. You all came aboard for your own reasons. You've been a good and loyal crew. But you signed on to be pirates and that is a life I can no longer live. So now you have a choice. You can remain on my crew and be paid a decent wage or if you desire to leave and make your own way in the world, I will grant you your share of the booty in the _Jolly's_ hold.”

“What about the ship?” Gilbert asked.

“This ship belongs to me,” Killian said firmly. “If you wish to find a place on another man's crew, then that is entirely up to you. But the _Jolly_ will no longer be flying the crimson flag.”

Killian stepped down and retired to the captain's quarters. Mr. Smee could answer any other questions they had. He couldn't make any man's decision for them. If any of them wished to continue the pirate's life they would have to do it somewhere else. Killian had made his choice.

In the end, ten decided to stay on, including Mr. Smee and Harrison. A couple, including Lucas, it seemed had found sweethearts in the village so they decided to stay as well. It was honestly more than Killian had expected. He spent the rest of the afternoon dividing up the treasure down in the hold for those leaving, saying goodbye to each man personally. As he looked in their eyes, there were a least a few who were going to find another ship as soon as they could, go back to the pirate's life. It surely had to be for some reason other than money because each man carried away a small fortune. But that was no longer his concern.

“I think that's the last,” Smee said, looking up from his account book.

“Make a list of those who are staying,” Killian said. “And give them their first week's wages.” He'd make sure they got put on the royal payroll as soon as he returned to the castle.

“Never thought this would happen,” Smee said, as he scribbled. “The _Jolly_ at a royal dock.”

“Neither did I, Mr. Smee. Neither did I.” But Killian wouldn't change it for the world.

* * *

In spate of cruel irony, it was  _Killian_ who couldn't sleep that night. Emma had finally gotten her nightmares under control; she lay peacefully next to him, golden hair turned silver in the moonlight. He stared at her sleeping form for a long time, trying to will himself to sleep, but it never seemed to come.

For the first time in many years, he felt rudderless, without purpose. He'd been a pirate for so long, to finally say goodbye to that, to make it  _official_ , was clearly messing with his head. He  _knew_ without doubt that he'd made the right decision. Being a pirate wasn't all that he was, not anymore. Now he was a husband. Soon, he would be a father. He had a family to think of, a life to life with Emma and whatever children they had. And he was  _happy_ . He really was. It was just going to take some getting used to.

Reluctantly, Killian decided to take a walk. It was very late, surely most of the castle would be asleep now. But he couldn't seem to shut down his thoughts. Perhaps a walk through the maze of the castle would clear his head. He checked on Emma; she appeared to be fast asleep. If he was lucky, she wouldn't even know he'd been gone. Killian pressed a butterfly kiss to her forehead and got out of bed. He pulled on his trousers and a shirt, adding his coat for good measure. The fire had gone out in the fireplace; it was becoming bitterly cold at night here in early November. He slipped on his boots and grabbed a candle off the nightstand, intending to light it once he was in the hallway, not wishing to wake his sleeping wife.

Once he was outside their room, he just wandered. He didn't have a destination in mind; he just walked. Eventually Killian found himself at the back doors to the Great Hall. He looked around, but saw no one. He pushed open the door and went inside.

The moon was so bright outside that he no longer needed his candle. He sat it aside and headed deeper into the cavernous room. The last time he'd been in here Emma was learning magic with that damnable fairy, Tinkerbell. He smiled at the memory, watching her open and close the gigantic main doors, changing the colors in the stained glass. Killian was sure she was only beginning to scratch the surface of what she could do, something that she very likely would pass on to their boy.

Seeing the room from  _this_ perspective was something altogether different. The way he had come in was the royal entrance, where the King and Queen would enter. Instead of approaching the dais from the front as he had all those months ago in chains, he came at it from behind. The three thrones—Emma's was just slightly smaller than the ones for her parents—loomed large in the moonlight, bigger than he remembered. He ran his hand over the armrest of Emma's, a picture of how she had looked the first time he'd ever seen her flickering in his mind.

She'd seemed not altogether real that day, dressed in a gown of light blue, a small tiara on her golden head. Taken his breath away almost instantly, thoroughly beguiling him. He hadn't known it then but that one look had sealed his fate.

And now he expected to be at her side always. Killian had  _married_ his princess and now he was here, standing next to her throne in the middle of the night. What the buggering  _hell?_ How had his life changed so much in less than a year? That day in this very room had only been about seven months ago, but it felt like a lifetime. He'd gone from pirate to the husband of a princess and one day Emma would be Queen. What did that make him?

_I met a bandit princess and everything made sense. I knew that no matter what else I did with my life, as long as Snow was in it that was all that mattered._

David's words echoed in Killian's head. The King had once found himself in Killian's position. A commoner who'd fallen in love with a princess. Granted, Killian's past was a bit more...colorful, but the point remained. Surely, if a shepherd could find his way, Killian could. He was used to leading men, had done it all his adult life. Emma was all that mattered. He would support her in every way, as a Queen, as a wife, as a mother, as the incredible woman who believed he was worthy of being loved. Still...trying out the King's throne couldn't hurt.

Feeling a bit mischievous, Killian wandered over to the large throne and sat. He almost expected it to buck him off or something equally heinous or undignified, but nothing happened. He certainly didn't feel different. Or more powerful or...anything really. It was just a chair. A symbol of power.

“It suits you.”

Killian looked up, off to his left Emma stood, holding a candle in her hand. Naked when he left her, she was dressed in a long nightdress, hair tousled from sleep. She looked ethereal in the dim light, more like a siren than ever.

“You should be sleeping, love.”

“So should you.”

“Point taken.”

“I woke up and you weren't there.”

“I'm sorry, lass. Is everything alright?” he asked, getting up hastily. Gods, what if she had woken up from one of her nightmares and he hadn't been there?

Emma sat down her candle and wrapped her arms around him. “We're both fine,” she mumbled against his chest. “I just missed you.”

He dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I just needed to clear my head, darling. But I shouldn't have left you.”

“It's okay. You can make it up to me.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. “And how would the princess suggest I do that?”

“Kiss me?”

Killian cupped her cheek with his good hand and tipped her face up. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. They were just as soft and sweet at the first time he'd kissed her, despite the almost overwhelming lust he'd felt at the time. The memory of her kiss haunted him for weeks after, nearly driving him mad.

This time he was in no hurry, kissing her slowly, breathing her in, tasting her, recommitting her to memory. Emma deepened the kiss, fingers curling into his shirt, moving up on her toes to get closer to him. Killian moaned softly, fingers toying with her hair, moving along her jaw. His left arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush. They broke apart for only a moment, soft smiles on their faces, Killian going back for more.

He shivered, feeling Emma's nimble fingers slip under his shirt. “What are you up to, love?” he asked, lips ghosting over her jaw and down the column of her throat.

Her hands moved over his back, kneading his skin, nail scratching. “Do you remember your promise?”

“Which promise is that, love?”

“To fulfill my...what did you call them... _racy fantasies_?”

Killian groaned. He  _did_ remember. And when he further remembered  _where_ they were he bit his lip. “You are a wanton woman, Emma.”

“You love it.”

“Gods, I really do.” He moved back to her lips, kissing her passionately. Her fingers slipped below the waistband of his pants, teasing the skin and driving him crazy. This was incredibly reckless—not to mention highly undignified—but gods, he wanted it. He wanted _her_ just as much as he had that night so long ago. He let her back him up toward the throne he had vacated, her hands fumbling with the laces of his pants.

Emma shoved his pants down his hips and gave him a push. “Sit,” she ordered.

Killian sat but close to the edge, legs spread. He watched Emma as she licked her lips, eyes riveted to his straining length. She pulled her nightdress up around her knees and sank down between his legs. They were actually going to do this; Emma was actually going to suck him off right there in the Great Hall. Gods, there wasn't a more perfect woman in the whole of creation than her. “Emma...”

“Shh,” she said quietly. “Don't want to get caught.”

“But prospect of getting caught is half the fun, darling,” he countered, smirking down at her.

“I know.” She wrapped her hand around him and began to stroke him slowly, her thumb sweeping over the tip with practiced ease. “You can return the favor another time, Captain.”

“As you wish, your highness.” His style of address was purposeful, knowing exactly where they were.

Emma knelt down, kissing the inside of his thighs. “It's Emma,” she reminded him. Then she wrapped her lips around him and took him deep into her mouth. Killian let out a strangled groan, knowing he needed to keep quiet, never his strong suit. Her warm wet mouth surrounded him, her head bobbing slowly in his lap. Killian slid his hand into her hair, more for something to hold onto than to guide her. Emma knew him too well for that.

“Such a sweet mouth, Emma,” he muttered, straining to keep his hips still. “So warm and wet.”

Emma hummed in acknowledgment, her tongue swirling around him. She teased his tip, cheeks hollowing out as she sucked, making his eyes roll back in his head. “Fuck, Emma.” His fingers tightened in her hair, pushing down a bit. He needed so much more.

Emma scooted closer to him, her free hand coming up to fondle his balls, thumb pressing on the spot at the base of his cock. He nearly shouted, but he remembered just in time, the sound coming out more like a stunted grunt. His hips rocked up into her mouth, unable to stop. He looked down at her, panting, trying to focus on  _not_ choking her.

“Touch yourself, love,” he whispered. “Come undone for me.” Everything seemed to turn her on lately; she had to be aching to be touched. He groaned in satisfaction when he saw her hand yank on her nightdress and slip underneath the pooling fabric. Emma groaned around him; he could picture in his head exactly what she was doing. She slowed down only a bit as she figured out how to pleasure both of them at the same time. “That's it, darling. Gods, you are so bloody gorgeous like this.” A goddess at his feet.

Emma picked up her pace again, little groans and mewls humming across his sensitive skin as Emma touched herself in time to her movements. She licked and sucked at his cock, tongue tapping on the spot just below the head. He could feel his orgasm building, balls tightening, hips rocking faster. “Faster, Emma. So close.”

She complied, head bobbing even faster, taking him as deep as she could. When he felt the head brush the back of her throat, Killian lost control, biting his lip as he came, hips coming up almost completely off the damned throne. Emma sucked him dry, her lithe body trembling as she fell over the edge right after him.

Killian sagged back against the hard back of the throne, spent. Emma released him, resting her head on his thigh. They stayed like that for a while, just trying to get their breath back. Killian stroked her hair idly, in awe that they had just done that. “You are incredible, lass,” he said quietly.

“Hmm,” Emma replied, still breathing heavily. “Thank you.”

“I do believe you have that backwards, princess.”

Emma chuckled quietly. “I don't think I'll ever be able to look at this the same way again,” she said, tapping the throne with her finger.

“I think we should be more worried about your father finding out.”

“True.”

“I, of course, will protest that I was merely obeying the orders of my princess.”

Emma smacked his thigh lightly. “Very funny, Captain.”

“What? It's true.”

“You're incorrigible.”

“But you love me.”

She looked up at him, her green eyes pale in the moonlight. “I do.”

“Just as I love you.” He sat up. “Come, love, I think it's time for us to get back to bed.” He helped her stand, then stood himself, tucking himself back into his pants, pulling the laces tight once more. Then he scooped Emma up and carried her back to their suite, laughing as she summoned their long burnt out candles with magic.

Needless to say, they slept very late the next day.

 


	15. Chapter 15

“What's this about, love?” Killian asked as they walked arm in arm through the corridors.

“I'm not sure, Mother didn't say. She just asked that we be there.”

“About bloody time.”

Emma silently agreed. She still hadn't forgotten about that Council meeting with the envoys her parents had held without them. Given the fact that the Blue Fairy had promptly dropped vital information about _her_ almost twenty years too late, Emma hadn't pressed the issue. Nothing good seemed to come from keeping secrets or not being upfront about what was really going on. She hoped that her parents had learned that particular lesson. 

It seemed that they had, as her mother had asked if she and Killian could attend the Council meeting this morning. The ball was only three days away; whatever was going on had to be important to interrupt the last minute preparations that were going on all over the palace.

By the time they got to the Council chamber almost everyone was there. Her parents sat on the far side of the round table, heads bent quietly in conversation. The dwarves were huddled along one side, muttering. Granny and Ruby were a couple of seats down, the older woman busy with her knitting. Since Liam's baby blanket was finished, Emma had  _no_ idea what Granny could be working on, but it looked like some kind of scarf? It was difficult to tell. Red smiled at Emma, standing to come give her god-daughter a hug.

“It's so good to see you, Emma,” the brunette said quietly, her usual exuberance subdued. Emma adored Red; she'd always been able to talk to her about things that she didn't feel comfortable discussing with her mother. “We missed you around here.”

Emma was relieved that Red didn't seem upset or angry about the anguish she'd put her parents through when she ran away. Red and Snow had been friends since before Emma was born. “You know I've always wanted to have an adventure.”

Red's green eyes flickered to Killian. “I'd say you've had  _quite_ the adventure. Am I going to get introduced?”

“Red, this is my husband, Killian Jones.” Emma looked up at Killian. “Killian, this is my godmother, Red.”

“A pleasure, my lady,” Killian said, giving a little courtly bow, which made Emma snicker.

Red sniffed the air delicately, then grinned. “I can see exactly what Emma sees in you, Captain. You smell like the sea.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, Red's a werewolf,” Emma said hastily, feeling her cheeks go pink. “Didn't I mention that?” She suddenly realized this was a very bad idea. Red may be older now, but her wolf senses still worked just fine. And judging by the look on her godmother's face, Emma knew there would be no secrets about Emma and her pirate and their more enjoyable activities.

Killian opened his mouth to say something, but he got cut off by her father. “Is everyone here? I think we should get started.”

Killian sent her a look that said they would talk about this later, then helped her to her seat, next to her father. She was still perfectly capable to doing it on her own, but she secretly loved the fact that her pirate was a gentleman. His solicitousness would be tested in the coming months as she inevitably got bigger and more ungainly. He sat in the chair next to her, winking at her as her father called the meeting to order.

“I'll just get to the point, since everyone has somewhere they need to be,” David said, looking distracted. “We've had word about the Dark One, Rumplestiltskin.”

A general murmur went across the table but Killian looked wary. “And what word is that, mate?”

“A message from Baelfire.”

“Is he okay?” Emma asked immediately. She wasn't especially fond of him as a person, but he _had_ helped them, had saved Killian's life. And she would be forever grateful for that.

“He's fine, if I'm reading between the lines correctly,” her mother assured her.

“What do you mean, reading between the lines?”

“Well, the message didn't say much. Just a bit about returning your things. Rumplestiltskin seems to have...disappeared.”

“Disappeared? I don't believe that,” Killian said immediately. “That sodding bastard wants Emma and her powers...he won't rest until he has them. Or she's dead.”

Emma suppressed a shiver. As much as she tried to believe otherwise, she knew Killian was right. She'd seen Rumplestiltskin with her own eyes. He was half crazed, drunk on power. Her hand reached reflexively for Killian's; he squeezed her fingers reassuringly.

“But Emma's got magic now, right?” Red asked, sounding worried.

“I can't control it,” Emma said in a quiet voice. “At least not in way that does anyone any good.” Sure, she could light candles, summon things from across the room. Parlor tricks, mostly. But this was Rumplestiltskin. The infamous Dark One. She just didn't see how she could hope to defeat him or even survive. Her hand instinctively went to her stomach, knowing it wasn't only _her_ life that was in danger.

“Love, you've seen you do _amazing_ things,” Killian replied, tipping her head up to look at him. “You'll get there, I know you will.”

She smiled at him, touched by his unwavering faith in her.

“The Dark One knows he can't touch Emma until after her child is born,” the Blue Fairy piped up from across the room. Emma hadn't even realized her erstwhile teacher was there. Other than Tinkerbell, who Emma was beginning to think of as a friend, fairies weren't high on her list of favorite creatures. The fact that they'd known her entire life that she had magic and hadn't said anything...it boggled her mind. Although, if they had, she might not have met Killian, which wasn't a life she wanted to live.

“Then where the bloody hell is he?” Killian said angrily. “He's not getting anywhere near Emma.”

“I don't know.”

“Isn't that what you sodding fairies are _for?”_

“Killian...”

“No. They've been nothing but evasive and dodgy your whole life, love. It's about time they do something about that.”

“The Captain is right,” her mother said firmly. “We need to find out where Rumplestiltskin is. What he's doing. I don't want him just appearing out of nowhere once my grandson is born. He's terrorized all of us long enough.”

“I'll see what I can do,” the Blue Fairy agreed. Emma thought the fairy looked a bit shame faced. _Good_ , she thought. She was tired of being thought of as some kind of puppet in some grand scheme, which was the vibe her got every time Blue looked at her. Emma would find a way to do what was expected of her, but she'd do on _her_ terms.

“In the meantime,” her father said, cutting through the tension in the room, “we have a ball to prepare for.”

“Are you sure that's wise, mate? There's a lunatic demon running around.”

“We have to keep living our lives,” Snow reminded them all. “If we give in to fear and doubt, then Rumplestiltskin's already won. We'll take all the proper precautions, Captain.” Emma had heard her mother express similar sentiments in her childhood, when the kingdom was still under threat from the Evil Queen. Her family seemed to attract trouble, but they never let that stop them.

“Agreed,” David said, smiling down at his wife. It reminded Emma so much of how Killian looked at her, her heart clenched. Emma had what she'd dreamed of all her life; she couldn't let Rumplestiltskin take it away. “Our guests should start arriving any day now.”

“How many?” Emma asked. She imagined more people would show up for the wedding itself than merely a welcome home ball.

“Abigail and Frederick should arrive tomorrow,” David said. “Ariel and Eric are coming all the way from the Southern Kingdom. Most of the others will arrive later for the wedding.”

“Most?” Emma didn't like the sound of that. Royal weddings were an occasion for the crowned heads of the Enchanted Forest to meet and be friendly; invitations were almost _never_ refused.

“Philip and Aurora,” Snow said quietly.

“Oh.”

“Who's that?” Killian asked.

“They rule one of the eastern kingdoms,” Emma explained. “They're a bit...stuck up.”

“Emma!” Snow cried.

“What? It's true. Remember when she tried to get me to marry her son?”

Killian's face darkened. “Come again?”

“The last time they visited us,” Emma said slowly, knowing her and other men was a bit of a touchy subject (which she couldn't get upset about because the reverse was true), “the Queen not so subtly hinted that I should marry her oldest son. That my mother would love it, since they were old friends.”

“Which was very much _not_ the case,” Snow retorted. “And I told Aurora as much.”

“Then why invite the bloody harpy at all then?”

Emma suppressed a laugh; Killian said exactly what he thought, not sugarcoating things for anyone. She loved that about him, that honesty and directness. It was such a change from what she was used to, living as a somewhat sheltered princess.

It was her father who answered, however. “Philip's actually a good man,” David said seriously. “And we're going to need them if this alliance against Rumplestiltskin is going to get off the ground.”

“ _Politics,”_ Killian spat, disgusted. Emma didn't blame him. She didn't like this anymore than he did; it was one of the things she'd been running away from. She hadn't run far enough apparently. Still, it had its uses.

“Yes, politics,” David said, heavily. “But let us worry about them for now. I've been corresponding with Philip; he thinks he can bring Aurora around. If they _do_ come, Captain, you may have to be extra charming though.”

“I will study at the feet of the master,” Killian said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Her father wasn't known as Prince Charming for nothing. Emma reached under the table and gave his leg a gentle squeeze. He was being so much more of a good sport than she expected; she knew how much he must hate all of this. He returned her gesture with a fleeting smile, his eyes clearly expressing what he was thinking. _Only for you, my love._

* * *

Once the meeting broke up, Emma wanted nothing more than to return to their suite and spend some quality time with her pirate. Unfortunately, her magic lessons resumed a midst all the last minute ball preparations. So instead of curling up in front of a fire and listening to Killian read to her, Emma trudged down to one of the guest rooms to meet Tinkerbell. Emma knew there was no way they could continue her lessons in the Great Hall. Not when all she could see in her mind's eye was Killian, sitting on her father's throne, aching for her touch.

“Where's Killian?” Tinkerbell asked.

“My mother dragged him off to make sure his new clothes fit,” Emma said, closing the door behind her. “He said he'd be here as soon as he could.”

“That actually works out well,” the blonde fairy replied thoughtfully.

“Why?”

“Well—and please don't get angry, Emma—but I was reporting your progress to Blue the other day and she wondered at the change. Why it seemed so difficult for you to control your magic before.”

“But I can't control it,” Emma argued. “Not really.”

“Emma, Blue told me it was taking you _hours_ to vanish a simple rock.”

“So?” She sounded childish, even to her own ears.

“ _So_...by the end of our first lesson you were zooming objects all over the room.”

“You're a better teacher.”

Tinkerbell shrugged. “I think we both know there's more to it than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Here, let's try an experiment.” Tinkerbell conjured a set of clay bowls, all glazed in different colors. Then promptly smashed them in haphazard pile of broken pottery.

“What'd you do that for?” Emma exclaimed.

“You're going to put them back together,” Tink said simply. “Go on.”

Emma shook her head. _Fairies_. Just when she thought she had them figured out. Clearly, she was wrong. Emma moved over to the waiting table, studying the pile. Big, small, red, blue, green, yellow. There was no way to reassemble them into anything useful other than by magic. Which was Tinkerbell's point. Emma held her hands out over the pile and tried to focus. It wasn't easy; she was very annoyed at Tink, not happy about playing this game. She just didn't see how useful this would be against Rumplestiltskin.

A whirl of white smoke later, Emma looked down. “That is...not what was supposed to happen.” They were bowls again, but all of the colors were jumbled and there were ragged edges where pieces just didn't fit.

Tink suppressed a laugh, but Emma saw her smirk. The blonde waved her hand, returning the bowls to their broken state. “Let's try again.”

Emma huffed and tried again. And again. And again. It was harder than she thought. It was colors that were throwing her off, she decided. They looked more like bowls every time she tried, but she couldn't get all the colors right. It was maddening. She was still at it when Killian arrived.

“What's this, love?” he asked. He looked a bit ragged around the edges, hair still mussed, clothes _slightly_ askew. It was rather adorable, not that she would ever say so. The fearsome pirate captain and all that. The fact that he was putting up with _all_ of this—the politics, her family, staying in one place, her magic—just made her love him more. She felt a surge of affection for him as he ran his fingers through his hair, trying in vain to tame it.

“We're doing an experiment,” Emma told him. “Tinkerbell's idea.”

“What kind of experiment?”

“Testing a theory, Captain. On where Emma's magic comes from.”

“How's that?” Killian asked, confused.

“Pretty much what I've been asking,” Emma said under her breath.

“I heard that!” Tink said, disassembling the bowls again. “Try it once more, Emma. Then we can switch to something else, I promise.”

“Okay,” Emma replied, still skeptical. She'd been at it for over an hour; if she hadn't done it by now, she didn't think she was going to. She held her hands over the broken shards and focused, closing her eyes just in case it would make a difference. She felt the familiar swirl of smoke and opened her eyes.

The bowls were pristine once more, actually looking like bowls and all the right colors.

“What's different?” Emma asked. “I couldn't do it before, you saw me!”

“Remember what I told you before, Emma? About your magic being tied to your emotions?”

“Yeah...”

“Well, not to pry, but you seemed much happier once the Captain arrived.”

“You think _I_ had something to do with it?” Killian scoffed. “Are you daft?”

Tinkerbell put her hands on her hips. “Emma is the product of True Love,” she reminded them. “It makes sense that her powers would be fueled by her positive emotions, especially _love._ You are her True Love, are you not?”

“Aye, I am.” Killian stood by her side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, almost daring the fairy to gainsay him.

“The only difference were the emotions you were feeling, Emma. You were annoyed at me, frustrated. But then the Captain showed up and your whole demeanor changed. You can _do_ magic on your own, but your _best_ magic comes from a place of love.”

“Really?”

“I tried to argue the point with Blue, but she wouldn't listen. She'll have to now though.”

“I'd hardly call this definitive proof,” Killian said, looking over Emma's handiwork. “But if it gets that sodding fairy to stop looking at me like she'd rather smell a haul of stinky fish, then so be it.”

Emma laughed, curling herself into his embrace, hugging him tight. She was just calmer, _happier_ , when he was around. She felt his lips press against her hair, his murmured praise in her ear. She'd tried to argue with the Blue Fairy, had expressed more than once her desire for Killian to be with her at her lessons, but had been overruled. It turned out she'd been right the entire time.

“Can we try something else now?” she asked Tinkerbell. The morning's Council meeting had unnerved her, knowing Rumplestiltskin was out there somewhere, just biding his time. She wanted to learn something that would actually be useful for a change.

“Of course,” Tinkerbell said, whisking away those godsforsaken bowls with a flick of her wrist. “How about some teleportation?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon working on it. Even with the boost of having Killian there with her, it was difficult, more difficult than she'd imagined. They made it into a bit of a game, with Emma trying to move around the room from Killian to Tinkerbell to the fireplace and back again. Her palms had near perfect impressions of her nails in them from her trying to concentrate. And she thought she was going to chew her lip off for sure. But she refused to give up, Killian's encouragement every time she appeared in front him—a kiss, a brush of his thumb to her cheekbone, a whispered innuendo—actually seeming to help. It soothed her frustration if nothing else.

By the end of the lesson, Emma was exhausted but pleased. It finally felt like she was doing something that could actually be useful if the Dark One suddenly appeared in front of her. She had along way to go, but it was a start.

* * *

“What's this all about, Mother?” Emma asked. She was supposed to have another magic lesson with Tinkerbell, but her mother had asked her to come visit with her in her solar instead. Without Killian. She couldn't fathom why.

“Well, I thought it was time...”

“Time for what? The 'talk'? I think we both know it's too late for _that._ ” Emma was pregnant, for gods' sake.

“Time we had the midwife look at you. Make sure the baby is okay.”

Emma covered her stomach with her hand. “Why wouldn't he be?” She felt _fine_. Her nightmares were gone, she was finally sleeping, she wasn't that tired anymore. Even the morning sickness had passed.

Snow smiled reassuringly. “Emma, I'm sure Liam is _fine_. But it's always a good idea to get to know the person who's going to deliver your child.”

“Oh.” It honestly hadn't occurred to her. Between worrying about Rumplestiltskin and being with Killian, she was pretty much completely occupied. She'd only recently really begun to notice that she was putting on weight; not a _lot_ , just yet, but some of her dresses were getting tight. As long as she was alone with Killian, it didn't matter since she would go around wearing one of his shirts or a shift. But out in public was another matter.

“Plus with the ball so soon, I thought it would be good to make sure everything was okay.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Emma felt a bit bad that she hadn't thought of it. As much as she _knew_ Liam was coming, it still felt a bit surreal, like it was happening to someone else.

“Emma, are you alright?” her mother asked worriedly.

Emma fidgeted in her seat. “Yeah, I'm fine. It's just...when you were...” She swallowed, trying to figure out how to ask, without sounding like she was prying. “When you were...with me...did it feel _real?_ Sometimes I think it happening to someone else. What if I'm not ready?” She was barely twenty, had run off with a pirate. What did she know?

Snow got up and sat next to Emma on the settee; it was the same one she'd sat on all those months ago when her mother informed of her betrothal to Baelfire. A lifetime ago it seemed. “Emma, the fact that you are asking that question proves that you _are._ No one's truly _ready_. I wasn't.” Emma's head snapped up, looking into her mother's eyes, green like hers. Her strong confident mother...not ready? It didn't make sense to her.

Snow smiled softly, remembering. “My mother had died when I was so young. Then my father when I wasn't much older. We were still battling Regina...I was terrified when I found out I was pregnant. _Happy_ , but very scared. I was certain something would happen, that Regina would try to take something else I loved.” Snow squeezed Emma's hand. “Your father was _wonderful_. You should have seen his face when I told him. He looked at me like I was the most incredible person he'd ever met. Then he knelt down and started talking to my stomach. It was quite adorable, actually.”

Emma smiled, remembering Killian's reaction when she'd told him that _she_ was carrying his child. The look on his face...she would never forget it. He looked so _happy_ , like she was the moon and the stars and _everything_. “Killian actually picked me up and spun me around he was so happy,” Emma admitted. “He's been nothing but amazing through all of this.”

“Gives the lie to the fearsome pirate reputation, doesn't he?”

Emma shook her head. “No, he's...it's hard to describe. When he's _angry_...his reputation is very real.” She remembered vividly the way he'd beaten Randle to within an inch of his life for hurting her. “He can be ruthless when the occasion calls for it.”

“And when it doesn't?”

“He reminds me a bit of Papa actually,” Emma said honestly. “Very affectionate.”

“Very protective as well,” Snow observed. “He didn't hesitate to have words with Blue.”

“Can you blame him?” Emma said shortly. Killian knew when to let her fight for herself, but she had to admit that she liked that he'd gotten in the Blue Fairy's face.

“Honestly? No. I still don't understand why she'd hide your powers from us.”

“I'd like to know that too.” There was something about it that Emma didn't trust. Her little lie detecting ability wasn't exactly going off, but it also didn't feel completely at ease either. There was _something_ going on. She'd ask Tinkerbell the next time she saw her. The blonde fairy wasn't exactly a fan of the Blue Fairy either.

Snow caught Emma's eyes and nodded, her expression serious. “I know a lot of mistakes have been made, Emma. But we protect our own in this family. That includes our two newest additions, okay? We'll find a way.”

“I know.” Emma had chosen this new life of hers. Well, not the magic part, but everything else. And she didn't regret it, any of it. She couldn't regret something that made her this happy.

A few minutes later, the midwife showed up. She was older than Emma, but not quite as old as Snow. The woman's dark brown hair flowed over her shoulders as she curtsied respectfully. “Your highness.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Masters,” Snow said, gesturing for her to rise.

“Rosalind, your highness.” She sounded a bit like Killian, only rougher, less educated.

“Rosalind, then. This is my daughter, Emma.”

“It's an honor, my lady.”

“How long have you been a midwife?” Emma asked, trying not to seem nervous. It was a simple examination, she would be fine.

“It seems like my whole life, your highness. I learned from my mother, since I was young. Delivered my fair share of lads and lasses.”

That made her feel a bit better. “Sorry, I didn't mean...”

“It's quite alright,” Rosalind said kindly. “Most new mothers aren't as wary as they should be. It's a mark of good character that you _are.”_

“Shall we?” Snow cut in.

“Of course.” Rosalind asked Emma to stand. “This should only take a few minutes, your highness.” She put her hands gently on Emma's stomach, moving around, brow drawn in concentration. She asked some questions, some more personal than others—about what she was eating, if she was still getting sick, how tired she was, things like that—Emma answered them as best she could, trying to ignore the fact that her mother was right there.

“Well, you seem healthy enough, princess,” Rosalind said, stepping back. “Gaining a bit of weight at this stage is perfectly normal. Dresses getting a bit tight?”

“Yeah.”

“Emma! Why didn't you say something?” Snow asked.

“Because I knew you'd make a fuss. Greta's already spoken to her mother about letting out a few of them for me.”

Rosalind smiled. “Aye, you'll be gaining weight from here on out, highness. Might want to make some new gowns.”

“Will I be able to wear a corset tomorrow?” She knew it would be a _last_ time she'd be able to for a long time; Killian had never seen her in one, it was supposed to be a surprise.

“Just don't lace it too tight,” Rosalind warned. “You've got a growing lad or lass in there.”

“It's a boy,” Emma replied. “Liam, after his uncle.”

“Very well. Liam. He's small still, but he'll need plenty of room. As long as you're careful, I don't see why not.”

“What about the wedding? It's in two weeks.” Her dress had a high waist, so it _should_ hide any unusual curve to her stomach. Due to all the logistics of staging a royal wedding, they had been unable to get it together any sooner.

“No corsets then, I'm afraid.”

“I won't need one,” Emma assured her. “But will people...be able to tell? That I'm pregnant?”

Rosalind looked thoughtful. “It's early enough that it shouldn't be _obvious._ People who know you well will be able to tell though.”

“That's okay. It's just a formality anyway.” The ceremony was more for her parents than anything else. As far as she was concerned, she was already married. “I just didn't want to _waddle_ down the aisle.”

Rosalind chuckled. “You're still a couple of months from that, your highness. You should be fine.” Then she looked thoughtful. “Are you still—forgive the question, princess—but are you still having...relations with the little lad's father?”

Emma blushed. And her mother was _right there._ They had talked about it, but still. “Um, yes. Should we not be?” Gods, she hoped not. Emma didn't know if she could cope if they took that away from her. She'd go batty for sure.

“You absolutely can. In fact, I always encourage it. There's no reason for you _not_ to. We women are tougher than we look.”

“Thank the gods,” Emma breathed, relieved.

“Your body's reactions are changing, highness. You've already begun craving different foods and such. The more...shall we say...carnal desires are the same. You know your body better than anyone. If you can handle it, then it should be fine. If you experience any spotting or discomfort though, you come to me immediately, understand?”

“I promise.” She didn't want to do anything to jeopardize her son's life. “Thank you.”

“You just look after yourself, and I'll see you in a few weeks.” The midwife curtsied again and left.

“Everything's going to be alright, Emma,” her mother reminded her. “You'll see.”

* * *

“Hmm, what smells so good?” Emma asked, as she opened the door to their suite. “Killian?” She didn't see him anywhere, but she heard the sound of dishes clinking in the bedroom. She headed that way, wondering what he was up to.

There was a low curse and a small crash just as she entered the room. “Bloody hell.”

“What's going on?”

Killian righted himself, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry, love. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“What's the occasion?” There was a good sized spread on the low table, cushions covering the floor. Two candles stood in the center with a nice dried flower bouquet. Coupled with the merry crackling fire in the fireplace, it looked very romantic. But she couldn't for the life of her figure out _why_.

Killian did that nervous scratch behind his ear. “It's our three month anniversary, Emma. I thought we could have a nice little _private_ celebration.”

She thought about what day it was and realized with a start that Killian was right. Exactly three months to the day, she had married him on the deck of the _Jolly Roger_. “I didn't even realize,” she said, embarrassed. “I'm sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, love. A lots been going on the last few days.”

“No kidding. I'll be glad when all of this is over.”

“Not looking forward to being on display?” he asked, with just a hint of a smirk.

“Not especially. And neither are you.”

“On the contrary, darling. I am very _much_ looking forward to showing you off to the world.”

Emma laughed. “The pirate who snagged himself a princess, huh?”

He shook his head. “No, a man who somehow got the most beautiful woman in all the realms to fall in love with his sorry arse.”

“I happen to think that is a very nice part of you,” Emma parried back, stepping into his embrace. “Nothing sorry about it.”

Killian chuckled; she could feel the vibrations through their layers of clothing. He wrapped his arms around her, hand cradling her head. “I love you so much, Emma.”

Emma squeezed his middle, resting her head where his shirt was open, leaving his chest exposed. “I love you, too, Killian.” They stayed like that for a while; the only sound Emma could hear was the steady rhythm of Killian's heart. It was her favorite sound in the world.

“Come,” he whispered, breaking the silence. “I had dinner brought up for us.” He guided her down to the floor, arranging the cushions to make her more comfortable. Then he joined her, sitting to her right rather than across from her. His hook thunked on the wood, making him curse. Instinctively, Emma reached out, her hand squeezing his forearm, letting him know it was okay. It looked like he'd put in a lot of effort, trying to make it a nice evening for them away from all the attendant palace craziness. It meant a lot to her.

Killian flashed her a small smile. “Do you remember those cravings you were having a couple of days ago?”

“Yeah...” Emma looked over the table, her eyes finally settling on the small chicken-esque birds arranged neatly in front of her. “Oh, Killian...how did you...?” She'd developed a sudden craving for quail, but it was the wrong time of year for it, much to her growling stomach's disappointment.

“A pirate never tells his secrets, love. Let's just say I've arranged for you to have them for as long as you wish.”

“You are amazing, you know that? Thank you.”

To her surprise, his cheeks tinged pink. “I would be remiss if I didn't see to my lady's desires,” he said softly. “You and Liam are more important than anything else.”

Emma edged over to him and pulled him in for a kiss, marveling how the attentive gentleman and the fearsome pirate coexisted in this one man. And how he'd become _hers._ “I'll thank you more properly later, Captain,” she promised.

“I look forward to it, princess.”

They settled in to eat, diving headlong into the miniature feast. Much like her birthday celebration, Killian had thought of everything, putting her favorite things within easy reach. She ate one entire quail by herself before starting a second; Edith had gone above and beyond and it tasted delicious. Killian speared the third on his hook, tearing at it his fork. A bit messy, but it got the job done. Emma always appreciated just how he'd learned to cope with the loss of his hand, never complaining about it or wishing things were otherwise. He just got on with his life and carried on. That strength of will was one of the things she loved about him.

“I got cornered by one of those bloody dwarves today,” Killian informed her, reaching for a hunk of bread. “The surly one, what's his name?”

“Grumpy.”

“Aye, that's him. Wanted to know when we wanted them to start working on Liam's bloody nursery.”

Emma wiped at her mouth with a napkin. “Oh gods, I haven't even thought about that yet.” Having this baby was turning out to be a lot more work than she'd anticipated.

“Seeing as he then proceeded to threaten me with bodily injury should I ever hurt you, I told him to bugger off about the nursery until after the sodding wedding.”

Emma laughed out loud, a perfect picture in her mind of short, stocky Grumpy threatening the tall, dashing pirate. “I'm so sorry, Killian. I'll talk to him.” The dwarves were very protective of her family, Grumpy most of all. He was very loyal to her mother in particular. “If it makes you feel better, he gave Papa a hard time too at first.”

“Guess that puts me in good company then.”

“The best,” she said with a smile. “I think we're all still getting used to how things have changed.” Seven months ago she was alone, without even a thought of marrying or having a child. Then she'd met Killian and her whole world got turned upside down.

“Aye,” he agreed. “Never really thought I'd settle down with a lass.”

“Do you miss it?” Emma asked softly, even though she knew the answer.

“Sometimes,” he said honestly, his voice low and soft. “But I'd miss you more.” He reached across his body and brought her hand up to his lips, the kiss branding her skin. “I don't need those things, Emma. I _do_ need you.”

“I know exactly how you feel.” She pushed the table away from her and scrambled to her knees, climbing deftly into his lap. It was a move she wouldn't be able to do much longer, so she planned to enjoy it while she could. “Hello, Captain.”

“Hello, love,” he replied, thumb brushing the dimple in her chin.

“I do believe I promised you a thank you.” She leaned in close, brushing his nose with hers, before closing the gap and kissing him. It was slow and soft, like she was intent on learning him all over again. Killian followed her lead, hand trailing up and down her spine, hooked arm holding her close to him. Emma tangled her fingers in his hair, the thick black strands feeling soft against her skin. She could spend her life just kissing him. But even those slow tender kisses stoked the simmering desire she always seemed to have for him these days. “Take me to bed, Killian,” she murmured against his lips, tugging lightly on his hair.

“As you wish, my love.” He somehow managed to get them up, Emma wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed. She flopped down onto it with a bounce, a laugh tumbling from her lips. Killian pulled off his boots and vest before joining her, pulling her on top of him and kissing her senseless. His hand pulled at the laces of her dress, the fabric falling away onto the floor, leaving only her shift behind. She reached for his pants, palming his hardening cock through the leather, but he quickly batted her hand away. “Later,” he growled.

“But I'm supposed to be thanking you,” she reminded him as his lips latched onto her pulse.

“You are, just by letting me have you,” Killian assured her. It had been like that from the very beginning; Killian just being awed by the fact that she gave herself to him willingly.

Emma groaned, feeling the heat pool in her stomach. “Gods, I need you,” she breathed, pulling at the shift. Her skin was too hot, too tight, too _everything_. She wanted to feel his hand and hook on her bare skin, teasing the places he knew made her writhe with pleasure.

“Patience, princess,” Killian cautioned her with a chuckle. “We've all night.”

“Damn pirate,” she muttered.

“Oh, is it the pirate you want, milady?”

“What if I said yes?”

“Then I shall endeavor to give you what you want.” Abruptly, Killian rolled them over, his hook pulling on the linen shift. It tore with a satisfying rip from her collar all the way to her toes. “A feast for the eyes you are, my love.” When he looked at her like that, it didn't matter if she'd put on a little weight. Killian thought she was the most gorgeous thing he'd ever seen. He yanked the ruined cloth away and threw it on the floor, his shirt following. “I'm going to make you come until you can't any longer,” he vowed. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Captain,” she assured him, a shiver racing down her spine. She knew that lustful glint in his eye. He would make good on his promise, giving her high after high until she begged him to stop. Her core clenched in anticipation.

“Good girl,” he murmured, trailing his hook along her curves. “You need a good ravishing, princess.”

Emma hissed at the feel of the cool metal on her overheated skin, arching into it. Killian slid the tip up her stomach, between the valley of her breasts. His mouth latched onto one of her pert aching nipples, sucking on it greedily, making her gasp. The tip of his hook scraped across her skin at her sudden movement, leaving an angry red mark in its wake.

“Careful, darling,” Killian admonished with a low growl. “We wouldn't want to mark that lovely skin, now would we?” He pressed his lips to the mark, soothing it with his tongue.

“Killian,” Emma pleaded, barely noticing the brief tingle of pain. “Gods, don't stop.”

“You like that, don't you? You love when I use the hook on you.”

“Yes!”

Killian immediately went back to it, bringing the hook back to her breast. The tip moved gently over the sensitive puckered flesh, teasing her, not giving her the relief she craved. It felt like she was burning up, the inherent danger of having his hook on her like this driving her mad with want. Her fingers fisted the sheets, back arching into his touch. The metal moved again, the curved edge toying with the hardened peak. Emma whimpered, biting her lip. “Gods, Killian. _More.”_

His hand slid down her stomach, two fingers gliding into her scorching heat easily. Emma cried out at the abrupt intrusion, but it melted into a moan quickly as he pumped them in and out of her.

“You are so wet for me, princess. You like the things I do to you, you like being at the pirate's mercy.”

“Fuck,” Emma cried, his voice doing terrible _wonderful_ things to her. _“Yes.”_ She hardly knew what she was agreeing to, she just needed more of his touch. She rolled her hips into his hand, desperate for more friction. Killian obliged her, adding a third finger, his rings slipping past her entrance, making her feel so _full_.

“That's it,” Killian mumbled against her skin. “Fuck my fingers, princess. Come for me.”

Emma moved in time with his thrusting fingers, head pressed back into the pillow as she chased her release. In moments, she was there, screaming out her climax, muscles squeezing around his fingers. He fucked her until she slumped back against the mattress, drenched in sweat and buzzing from her powerful high. She watched lazily as Killian pulled his fingers from her and licked them clean.

“Hmm,” Killian hummed, enjoying the way she tasted. He leaned down and brushed a kiss to her damp brow. “You are a vision, love. And I'm not through with you yet.”

Emma shivered again, knowing that there was more to come. Killian shucked off his pants at last, his thick cock bobbing against his stomach, a deep moan tearing from his throat. He wrapped his hand around it, stroking lightly a few times, knowing full well how much Emma enjoyed it when he touched himself. She could already feel the spark of desire flaring again as she licked her lips.

Killian abandoned his cock and turned back to her, building her up slowly with his mouth and hand and hook. He roamed over her body, his touch searing her skin, her tiny moans of pleasure filling the air. Gods, she loved having him touch her, how he would play her body like an instrument, until her toes curled in pleasure. When his mouth finally reached her core she was panting for breath, already on the edge of another climax. He lapped at her entrance, fucking her with his tongue, fingers rubbing her clit, his scruff scraping her thighs. Her hips bucked off the bed as she came again, the hand in his hair tightening painfully, his name the only word she could remember as she cried out.

When she came back to herself, Killian loomed over her with a smug grin on his face. “I'm going to fuck you now, princess,” he said, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I'm going to fuck that greedy cunt until you're screaming my name.”

Emma inhaled sharply, wondering how much more she could take. But she couldn't deny that she wanted to find out. She nodded at him, tongue darting out to wet her lips. Killian pounced on her, mouth covering hers in a searing kiss, sucking greedily on her tongue, demanding still more from her body. She'd asked for the pirate and Emma couldn't deny that the pirate had come out to play.

Killian pulled away, moving to stand. Emma frowned at him in confusion until he grabbed her ankle and looped his arm around her other leg and dragged her to the edge of the bed. He allowed her legs to fall to the floor, spread so he could push inside. Still slick from her first two orgasms, Emma moaned as he slid in easily. “You feel so good wrapped around me, love,” he groaned, giving her a tiny thrust. “Gods, I always want to be in you.” He slid his hand under her thigh, encouraging her to wrap it around his leg. She did, hiking both legs up as far as she could, Killian slipping just a little deeper inside her. “Oh fuck, just like that. So bloody tight.”

Emma moaned again, loving the way he filled her. As much as he professed to enjoy being inside her, she was certain she was getting the better end of this. Coming undone under his touch was always incredible, but nothing was better than having him inside her. She craved it, craved _him_ and there was no such thing as enough. “Move,” she said in a broken whisper. “Gods, _please.”_

Killian did as she asked, none too gently, wound too tightly from watching her come undone twice already. He _fucked_ her, using her body to bring him pleasure, every inch the pirate. He mumbled _filthy_ things to her, how tight she was, how much he loved fucking her, all the ways he was going to use her in the future. As he lost control, his thrusts grew rougher, bottoming out inside her. Emma brought her hand to her clit, rubbing it furiously, so, so close to a third orgasm.

“ _Fuck!”_ Killian yelled, his hips pistoning madly as he spilled himself inside her. Emma shuddered and cried out, her voice hoarse from her screams, as she followed him over the edge, white hot pleasure racing through her veins.

Killian slumped down on top of her, sweat dripping from his dark hair. He only stayed a moment, heaving himself off her, letting her legs fall to the ground. He rolled until he was next to her, half on and half off the bed.

“You...shouldn't let me do that,” Killian breathed finally, fingers brushing hers.

“Why not?”

“You're with child now, lass.”

Emma looked over at him. “I saw the midwife today.”

“And?”

“She said it was okay. 'We women are tougher than we look,' she said.”

“Did she now?”

“Yes. In fact, she _encouraged_ me to keep having sex with my husband.”

“Thank the gods for that.” He brought her hand to his lips. “Still, I'll try to be gentler sometimes. You're just feel so damn good, I lose my head.”

“I do too, you know. I love how we are together.”

Killian sat up, unstrapping his brace and chucking it into a nearby chair. Then he picked her up and brought her back up to the top of the bed, settling her in the heavy blankets. She watched as he moved back to the fire, adding a couple of logs and stoking it. “That should last us a while,” he said, coming back to bed.

Emma curled into his side, arm thrown across his chest. “Happy anniversary, Killian.”

“Happy anniversary, my love.”


	16. Chapter 16

He didn't know why he was nervous.

Correction, he knew exactly why he was nervous, but was annoyed at himself for _being_ nervous. He was Captain Hook. Captain Hook didn't _get_ nervous. Captain Hook would swagger around like he owned the sodding castle, putting the fear of the gods into anyone who so much as looked at him in a why he didn't like.

But Killian hadn't been  _Captain Hook_ for a long time. Not since he'd well and truly fallen for his princess.

Sure, he could call up that man, that man who lived for revenge and a fleeting assignation with a forgotten lass and a bottle of rum. He could bring that man forth if the occasion called for it. If anyone threatened those dear to him, they would know the full wrath of  _Captain Hook._

But more and more, it was  _Killian Jones_ , the young naive naval lieutenant who looked at the world with hope and possibility, who  _yearned_ for a hero's journey, that he presented to the world. He could never fully be that bright eyed boy he'd once been—he'd suffered too much loss, done too many unsavory things—but he could find a place where Captain Hook and Killian Jones met. He worked on it everyday, adjusting to the new and happier life he'd found himself in.

All caused by a chance meeting with a golden haired princess, who he now waited for at the foot of the long tall staircase, so they could present themselves to the world.

“I have to admit,” came a familiar voice from behind him, “that you do clean up rather well.”

Killian huffed, looking over his shoulder at the King. “I could say the same about you, mate. Rather different from how me first met, aye?”

David gave him a wry grin, adjusting the sword at his hip. “If you'd have told me then that the pirate I was sentencing to death would be the father of my grandchildren, I'd have run you through with  _this.”_

“You'd have gotten the chance to _try_ , highness. I think we both know who would win such a duel.”

“You forget, pirate, that I taught Emma myself.”

“Aye, but you're wee a bit older now, mate. Reflexes not as sharp as they used to be?”

“Are you challenging me, pirate?”

Killian smirked. “Perhaps I am.”

“Snow and Emma would kill us both.”

“Who said anything about telling the womenfolk?” Goading the King was so much fun, it nearly calmed his nerves. Nearly.

“Name a time and a place, Captain.”

Killian's face broke into a grin. When the King wasn't trying to take his head off, Killian quite liked him. “Practice yard. A week from tomorrow, noon. Give you a chance to unlimber those old bones.”

“You're on.”

They were silent for a while, waiting for their respective royal ladies. A shepherd and a pirate married to royalty. It was definitely something that could be immortalized in song or a minstrel's tale. Perhaps one day it would.

“Nervous?” David asked.

Killian shuffled his feet, just a little. “You've been to one ball...old hat and all that, really.” In truth, he was worried about disappointing Emma. This would be their first time out in the world— _her_ world—as an honest to goodness couple, a princess and her pirate captain. It was very different from that tiny town festival they'd attended when sailing the  _Jolly Roger._ There they were anonymous, pretending to be a minor lord and his lady. Now they were the Princess and the Captain, heirs to her mother's throne. No one outside of their small circle knew about Emma' pregnancy, only a few more knew about the circumstances under which she'd run away and returned home. This would be their test.

“How long has it been?” David said, interrupting Killian's thoughts.

Killian cocked his head, considering. “Well on a decade, I think, mate,” he said honestly. “I was nothing more than a wet behind the ears lieutenant, fresh from the academy. My brother dragged me along, insisting I learn something of society before the  _Jewel_ 's maiden voyage.”

“I didn't go well, I take it?”

“If by well, you mean I didn't fall flat on my arse,” Killian joked. “I acquitted myself well enough.”

“Old King George had me taking dance lessons for a _week_ ,” David confided. “It was awful.” The King's blue eyes lifted up to the top of the stairs, abruptly cutting off his memory. Killian followed and saw what had the King so arrested.

Snow White looked regally down at them in a pale lavender gown, her long raven hair twisted up into an elegant knot, topped with a diamond tiara.

“Gods, she's still the most beautiful,” David said, almost to himself.

“Second,” Killian countered, his eyes peaking around Snow to look for Emma. She was nowhere in sight. Yet.

Snow descended the stairs, one gloved hand on the railing. “David. Captain.”

“Very beautiful, your highness,” Killian said, nodding politely.

Snow smiled knowingly. “That's very kind of you, but we both know you're not waiting for me.” She touched his arm, eyes glancing back toward the stairs. “She's waiting for you,” the Queen whispered conspiratorially. She took her husband's arm and discreetly guided him away, giving them some privacy.

Killian turned his eyes back up to the top of the staircase, hoping to finally get a glimpse of his princess. She'd been maddeningly coy about what she would be wearing.

When she finally stepped into view, Killian's breath left him in a rush, leaving him light headed and dazed.

Stunning just didn't seem like the right word, but Killian—even with his vast vocabulary—was struggling to come up with the  _right_ world for how incredible she looked, perched up there at the very top of the stairs, green eyes searching for his. Her gown wasn't demure like Snow's; it was red, a deep vibrant red that stood out against her smooth pale skin. The neckline plunged dangerously, the swells of her breasts pressing against the rich fabric.  _Gods above, she's wearing a corset_ , he realized with a start. Gods only knew what  _that_ looked like under her gown. A garter, perhaps? His cock twitched just  _thinking_ about it. She wasn't even in front of him and Killian knew it was going to be  _torture_ until he could get her alone.

The cut of her gown hid any weight she had gained in the last couple of weeks; indeed, Emma looked remarkably healthy,  _glowing_ . Her sun kissed hair was piled on top of her head, held in place by a smaller tiara than the one Snow wore. And to Killian's delight, her anchor chain rested in its familiar place, the silver glinting in the candlelight. His mother's ring still sat on her finger, just as it had every day since she'd married him on the  _Jolly Roger._ Technically, the official line still stood; they were engaged, not married, but Killian knew the truth. And in two weeks time, so would everyone else in the sodding Enchanted Forest.

Emma's sparkling green eyes found his blue ones at last, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. She descended the stairs with grace and dignity, every inch the princess she truly was. He almost wanted to pinch himself, to make sure she was real, but he resisted the urge. Somehow, someway, he'd already won her heart. And he'd spend the rest of his life being worthy of it.

“Hey,” Emma said quietly, almost shy now that she was in front of him.

Killian swallowed; the effect was even more potent this close. “Love...you are...” He reached out, fingers brushing her cheek, relieved to feel the warm skin under his touch. Not a figment of his imagination then. His Emma was right in front of him, as real as his hook. “The most beautiful... _stunning_ creature I've ever seen.”

Her cheeks flushed, eyelids fluttering at his praise. “You look very...dashing this evening, Captain,” she replied, eyes raking over him.

Killian couldn't help the smirk that twisted his mouth. “I  _am_ devilishly handsome, princess. So good of you to notice.” His new pants were leather, still a bit stiff, but not unduly so. His long coat was black with a high stiff collar, silver buttons lining the front. His vest was blue instead of red, covering a clean white shirt. The former was a testament to his past as a naval officer, the color of the kingdom he had served when he still believed in such things. It was the perfect compliment to her gown and he suspected that Emma had had a hand in it.

Emma reached out and ran her hands over his chest, smoothing over the layers of fabric. “Seriously, though, you're not...uncomfortable?”

He covered one of her hands with his. “Everything fits just the way it should,” he assured her. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. “You can find out just how well later, lass.”

“Promise?”

“If we didn't have all these people waiting for us, I'd haul you off to the nearest closet and have my way with you right now,” he swore.

He grinned when he saw her shiver. “We're getting out of here as soon as we can.”

“Too right, love.” Killian held out his arm. “Shall we?”

Her smile would put the sun to shame. “Yes, we shall.”

As they walked out into the greater ballroom, Killian found his nerves dissipating. Emma's presence steadied him, as they fell into their familiar banter and teasing. He felt like he could conquer the world with her beside him. Only in this case, the world was a ballroom filled with the nobility and crowned heads of several kingdoms.

They found her parents first, allowing father and daughter to embrace. Killian swore for a second that David's eyes glittered with tears, but they were gone the next moment, so he said nothing. Fathers and daughters. Killian wondered if he'd ever know what that felt like.  _One thing at a time, Jones_ , he reminded himself sternly.  _You've already got a son on the way, don't get greedy._

“So I thought we'd go around, introduce you and Killian to some of our guests,” Snow suggested, glancing around the room. The chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, bathing the entire room in light, a stark contrast to the inky black sky.

“Are you sure it's safe?” Killian said, hand returning to Emma's. After the report of the Dark One on the loose, security in the castle had been doubled, but Killian wasn't letting Emma out of his sight.

“Blue personally put a protection spell on the castle this morning. There's no one here who shouldn't be, Captain,” Snow assured him.

“Tinkerbell was there too, she told me,” Emma piped up and Killian had to hide his smirk. Emma had confided her funny feeling about the Blue Fairy to him; he suggested they enlist Tinkerbell as a second pair of eyes. Knowing the blonde haired fairy had double checked to make sure the Blue one was up to scratch made him feel better. This was not the night for anything to go wrong.

“Very well,” Killian acquiesced. “Lead on.”

They started small, striking up conversations with some of the minor nobility of Emma's kingdom. Killian didn't miss the way everyone's eyes flickered to his hook, silver and shiny. He'd considered wearing his fake hand, but as David as so astutely pointed out a weeks ago, people were as much looking forward to meeting the infamous Captain Hook as they were Killian Jones. Most were wary of him until Emma imparted the story of how he'd found her on Captain Drake's ship, essentially rescuing her from an unwanted marriage. Okay, not the actual  _literal_ truth—she obviously left out the more  _intimate_ details—but close enough to sound plausible and  _slightly_ less scandalous. Killian was as charming as he knew how to be, his pride in Emma the impression he wanted to leave people with. He was very aware that  _he_ was the lucky one here, the lowly pirate captain.

“You don't have to keep doing that, you know,” Emma whispered as they left Abigail and Fredrick, the subjects of the letter planted by Rumplestiltskin.

“Doing what?”

“Being humble,” she replied, toying with his cuff. “I miss my arrogant swaggering pirate. Just be yourself.”

“Here's our perfect chance,” Killian said, steering them toward a dark haired prince and his red headed companion. Killian recognized the sigil on the man's chest; it was from one of the seafaring kingdoms. If anyone would know Captain Hook, it would surely be him.

“Emma!” The red head enthused as they approached. “You may not remember me, it's been quite a while since we've been to visit.”

“Ariel,” Emma said, smiling. “Yeah, I remember. Mother speaks of you often.”

“Snow is so kind; she sends me new... _things_ for my collection still. The least we could do is come for her only daughter's wedding!”

“Collection?” Killian asked, thoroughly confused.

The dark haired prince came up and wrapped his arm around Ariel. “My wife is—sorry,  _was—_ a mermaid,” he said quietly.

“A mermaid? You _married_ a mermaid, mate? Are you insane?”

“Hey!” Ariel cried indignantly. “What's _wrong_ with mermaids?”

“I'm a pirate, love. Can't say I've ever had a positive experience with one of your kind. Twisted, the lot of them. How'd you manage to get legs anyway?”

Emma elbowed Killian lightly in the ribs. But Ariel answered him. “It's a long story. It involves the sea witch Urusla, my voice and saving Eric's life.”

Killian shuddered. “Ursula? I've heard stories about her. Nasty piece of work, almost as bad as the Dark One. If you managed to survive that, then perhaps I underestimated you. My apologies.”

“I'll... _think_ about accepting, Captain....”

“Killian Jones,” Killian said. “But most people call me--”

“Captain Hook,” the man Ariel called Eric said. “I know who you are.”

“Have we met before?”

“Not directly. Your ship picked off one the smaller ships in a convoy I was leading some years ago.”

Killian thought back. “I remember. That was a good day.”

“You call petty theft a good day?”

Killian saw Emma and Ariel exchange a look, debating on whether or not to step between them. But Killian saw the teasing glint and grudging respect in Eric's eyes. The man was clearly a sailor himself, a good one. “You have to admit there is a certain satisfaction to bringing one's adversary to heel, your highness.”

Eric clapped Killian on the back. “Indeed. Now tell me about taking down a ship of the Dark One; I'll bet that is an excellent story.” Killian wasn't sure what Snow and David had done to smooth over Killian's past as a pirate with people like Eric, but he was going to find out. Rather than press the issue, he launched into the story of Rumplestiltskin's ship, how Emma had saved his life, the possible plot with Jafar.

“We have to do something about him,” Ariel was saying. “Trying to force you to marry his son? That's horrible.”

“It's not even the worst of it,” Killian assured her.

“What do you mean?”

But he never got to answer her, because dinner was called. They said goodbye to Ariel and Eric and headed up to the high table. After the feast there would be actual dancing at this welcome home ball, which Killian was especially looking forward to. He knew he and Emma would make quite the pair and he was eager to show her off.

Ever the gentleman, Killian pulled out Emma's chair for her, her hand scorching his as he helped her into it. Unlike her mother, Emma was _not_ wearing gloves and Killian was becoming certain it was one of her methods of tormenting him. The top half of her gown left her arms and shoulders bare, only small bunches of fabric looping around her upper arms. All that skin was distracting and Killian saw...he wasn't the only person distracted. As he sat, he saw far too many men glance in Emma's direction.

Emma covered his brace with her hand. “Hey, you okay?” she asked, seeing his near thunderous expression.

He forced a smile as he turned to her. “Perfect, love.”

Emma raised an elegant—if credulous—brow. “Come here, pirate,” she said in a low voice.

Killian leaned toward her and was pleasantly surprised by the soft feel of her lips on his. He nipped carefully at her bottom lip before she could pull away, wanting the kiss to linger, knowing they had an audience. “Think that will last you?” he asked as he pulled back reluctantly.

Emma grinned wickedly at him. “Not in the slightest.”

“Good. Me neither.” He stole one last kiss, seeing David looking at them expectantly. He nodded at his father in law, completely unashamed of their behavior. As Snow once told them, Emma's parents had once been young and in love.

David and Snow stood, preparing to address their guests. About twenty five or so circular tables had been set out, each seating ten, all filled to the gills. Killian saw that only a few were looking directly at the King and Queen. Most were staring at he and Emma, trying to get a good look at the pirate who—as the story went—rescued the princess from the clutches of the Dark One. Killian stared determinedly back, not allowing himself to be cowed by the attention. In fact, he seemed to relish it. Emma sat beside him, her delicate hand resting on the metal of his hook, just as if it were his hand instead.

There was a small clinking sound; one of the serving staff tapped a large glass with a spoon to get everyone's attention. David cleared his throat and took his cue. “As you know, our daughter, Emma, has returned to us. She has had—if she doesn't mind me saying—quite an adventure. Over the course of her time away from us, she has found a partner, someone who loves her the way Snow and I have always imagined for her. Most of you know him by reputation and there may be some who have had the somewhat _unpleasant_ privilege of meeting him in person. I, of course, am speaking of Captain Killian Jones.”

There was a smattering of applause, but it quickly died away. David and Snow each raised their wine glasses. “Captain Jones,” Snow continued, turning toward where he and Emma sat, “has returned Emma to us and we will forever be grateful. Thank you, Killian, for looking after her when we could not. May you have a long and happy life together.”

The guests all raised their glasses, joining in the toast. Killian and Emma followed suit—his glass filled with wine and hers with cider—Killian feeling oddly touched by the King and Queen's public acceptance of him.

“Shouldn't that kind of thing be reserved for the wedding, mate?” Killian asked David quietly as they sat.

“Practice,” David shot back with a smirk.

Killian laughed, turning his attention to the food as it was brought in.

“He's usually more long winded than that,” Emma whispered, as she took a couple of slices of bread from the proffered plate.

“Perhaps he doesn't want to tire you,” Killian retorted, making sure David couldn't hear them. He dipped his spoon into the thick clam chowder, thankful that there was at least one course he could eat one handed. He hadn't said anything to the Queen, not wanting to make a fuss. He could adapt to just about anything.

“There's only one person I want tiring me tonight, Killian,” Emma whispered. “Wearing me out until I am _exhausted._ ”

Killian nearly choked on his soup, not prepared for Emma's brazen declaration. But he highly approved. Very highly.

“Any ideas on how that might be accomplished?”

Her hand slipped under the table, gliding over the leather of his trousers. “Well, you'll have to lose these for one.”

Killian swallowed. “Is that so? Anything else, princess? Or do you only want me bare from the waist down?”

Her hand slid over the soft fabric of his vest, Killian could feel his stomach muscles trembling under her light touch. “Oh no, you'll have to be completely naked for this. We wouldn't want to ruin your new things.”

Killian took another bite of his soup, his eyes darting around the room. No one seemed to hear them; they looked like a couple engrossed in conversation, at least from a distance. “And what about _your_ new things?” he asked, turning his attention back to Emma, getting another eyeful of her cleavage.

“This?” Emma retorted with a laugh, touching the bodice, pretending to look like he'd said something witty instead of erotic. She leaned in close. “Captain, you may do _whatever_ you wish with this.”

Killian looped his hook into one of the string ties holding her gown together. “So if I were to say... _rip_ your pretty dress from your body, you wouldn't have a thing to say about it?”

“I think 'oh yes please' would cover it.”

Their exchange got interrupted by the arrival of the next course. Killian cursed under his breath. It was difficult to focus on eating when food wasn't the thing he was hungry for. But he knew he would need to eat if he was going to survive whatever torture Emma had in mind this evening. She carried on as if they'd been discussing the bloody weather, while Killian fidgeted from the tightness in his pants.

He was finally beginning to regain his equilibrium when Emma reached for him again. “So what do you think, Killian?”

He blinked at her, not a single clue what she was talking about. “How's that?”

“I said,” she repeated, hiding a smirk, “that I was thinking about redecorating our suite. New drapes and such.”

“Why?”

“Well, they're going to be working on the nursery _anyway_...I thought we could make it more...ours.”

“Wouldn't we have to vacate in the meantime?” he asked stupidly. Then he grinned. “Which could be a good thing...there's _so_ many other rooms in this castle we _haven't_ tried.”

Emma squeezed his thigh. “Exactly.”

“Then that, my love, is _definitely_ something we should look into.” He leaned close, lips brushing her cheek. “So many places in this castle to have you, love. How _ever_ will we choose?”

“I can think of a few.”

“Care to share?” His hook slipped under the table again, resting lightly on her thigh. He wished he had his hand, certain that he'd be able to feel the heat coming off her. Her pupils were dark and slightly dilated, surely reflecting his own.

Emma used her other hand to press his hook to where she was aching. Thank the gods they were sitting so close together or everyone in the hall would know what they were up to. “Where would be the fun in that?”

“Well, it would give me something else to picture besides bending you over _this_ table and having my way with you.”

“Good to know I wasn't the only one.” Killian felt her hips rock up into his hook, her teeth chewing on her lip to hide her shaky breath.

“Gods, do not tempt me, lass.”

The main course arrived; Emma barely let go of him in time. Everyone but Emma had a tasty roast; she indulged in her craving for quail, the ones that Killian had called in a favor to get her. Killian barely noticed what he was eating; wanting nothing more than for the sodding meal to be over so they could make an appearance on the dance floor, then get the hell away from all the prying eyes. If he didn't have her _soon_ , he was likely to explode.

“Emma,” he whispered as they stood at last, “do you have any idea what you're doing to me?”

She flushed, looking up at him through her dark lashes. “I'm just returning the favor, Captain.”

Killian blew out a breath, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “You'll be the death of me, lass.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Don't you dare.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I love you just as you are.”

Emma slipped her arm through his. “I think we have a dance waiting for us.”

They followed her parents down the from the high table and back out to the distant dancefloor. Snow made another little speech, but Killian was hardly paying attention. He just wanted to get the bloody thing over with so he could drag Emma out of there. He was already casting about for a plausible excuse should they need it.

The orchestra that played was much better than the little band of minstrels they'd danced to in that tiny village, which was to be expected. Playing at a royal function was considered a great honor. As it was Emma's welcome home celebration, she and Killian were expected to open the dancing. He felt a bit of déjà vu as he led Emma onto the floor. He caught sight of them in one of the tall mirrors that were place strategically on the walls; his breathing hitched, still bowled over how beautiful his princess was. They were a very striking couple, his dark features and clothes contrasting perfectly with Emma's light. How the bloody hell had he gotten _here?_

“You remember how to do this?” Emma teased, as they reached the center of the loose circle of people.

“Are you going to let me lead, your highness?” he countered, bringing his good hand to her hip.

“Maybe.”

“My stubborn princess has finally made an appearance, I see.” He smiled as her hand curled around his hook. He could feel the eyes on them, people openly gawking as to how they would manage to dance with Killlian's one hand.

“You love me stubborn though.”

“Indeed.” Killian pressed a brief loving kiss to her forehead, before leading them in the steps of the dance. This first dance was not unlike their _other_ first—another waltz—which Killian was certain was Snow's doing. She just loved the story of them dancing together under the stars, so it was no surprise that the Queen would try to recreate it, at least in part.

Slowly, other couples started to join them and soon the floor was filled with swirling dresses and coat tails. Killian and Emma nodded politely as they passed some of their acquaintances from earlier in the evening; other than that they were completely absorbed in each other.

“You're really good at this,” Emma observed as they wove in and out of the other dancers.

“I told you, love, it was something I learned long ago.”

“That's not what I meant. I meant _this_ , like all of this. Not just the ball. You've taken on so much since we met; you gave up your _life_ for me, for our family. You didn't have to, you know.”

Killian shook his head. “Yes, I did. Emma, I was dreaming of a life...a _real_ life, where I wasn't consumed by revenge or just plain indifference. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to _feel_. You gave that back to me. I'd follow you to the ends of the world if you asked me to.”

Emma brought them to a stop in the middle of the floor and brought his lips down to hers, kissing him thoroughly, ignoring all the people watching them. “I love you, Killian Jones. Don't ever doubt that.”

He leaned his forehead to hers. “I won't.” The moment was broken by a light cough from behind them. It was David.

“May I have this dance?” he asked Emma.

She looked up at Killian. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all, love.” He gently handed Emma off to her father, intending on tracking down a drink. But he didn't get far before Snow found him.

“It seems our partners are otherwise occupied,” she said at his elbow.

“So it does.” He looked back at Emma and David, they were laughing softly together. “Would you like to see if we can match them, your highness?” Killian asked Snow.

“I thought you'd never ask, Captain.” Snow was a bit shorter than Emma, but not much. He was about to say something about his hook, but Snow didn't even blink, merely doing as Emma had done. “You've adapted remarkably well.”

Killian frowned; he never really talked about the loss of his hand. He'd only spoken to Emma about it in passing.

“I'm sorry,” the Queen said softly. “I didn't mean to pry.”

“No, it's...fine. I just haven't spoken of it in a long time.”

“You don't have to. Emma accepts you; that's all I need to know.”

“She's a remarkable woman.”

“I admit I lost sight of that for a while,” Snow said sadly. “I still see my little girl when I look at her. But she's grown up; having a child of her own.”

“She didn't want to hurt you,” Killian said, as they moved across the floor. “She just didn't feel like she had any other choice.”

Snow blinked back tears. “I meant what I said earlier. Thank you for being there for her. For being what she needs. I'll admit that it's not what I _expected_ , but the best things in life never are, I've found.”

“Can't argue with that.” He'd never expected anything like this to happen to him in his life, but he would be forever grateful that it had.

Once the dance ended, Killian looked around for his wife. He expected to see her with her father, but David was speaking with that Frederick bloke. Finally, he found her; she was talking to someone Killian didn't know, a boy around her age with flat brown hair and eyes. Even from a distance Killian could see the haughty manner. The boy touched Emma familiarly—far too familiarly for Killian's liking—ignoring the way she moved back. An irrational jealous impulse seized him and Killian marched across the room to where Emma was.

“There you are, love,” he said, a little louder than he would normally.

“Killian!” Emma cried, clearly relieved. “Louis, this is Killian, my _fianc_ _è_.” Killian tried to ignore the pang of hurt at the idiotic charade they had to maintain for these people, that they were less than they truly were. It was only for two more weeks.

“The pirate?” The boy—Louis, apparently—looked down his nose at Killian, which was quite a feat considering Killian was a good three inches taller.

“Aye, I'm a pirate. What of it?”

“Killian, this is Louis, the oldest son of Philip and Aurora.” Her warning was unspoken. _Please don't lose your temper._ “We played together as kids.”

“Only a couple of times,” Louis retorted. _Ponce_ , Killian thought. He couldn't just let Emma put in a good word for him; he had to be _right._

“Yes, well, it was good to see you, Louis. I hope you're staying for the wedding?”

“Mother says we have to.” Killian could tell this was the last thing Louis wanted. Served him right for being an ass.

“Is she here?”

“They're over there,” Louis said petulantly, before leaving without so much as a 'by your leave.'

“Berk,” Killian muttered.

“Unfortunately, he and his younger brother are both like that,” Emma informed him. “I feel bad for whoever Aurora ropes into marrying them.”

“Well, _you_ , my love, are already spoken for, so this Aurora will have to look elsewhere.”

Emma leaned up and kissed him again, her fingers threading through his hair. “Just a couple more dances, then we can get out of here,” she whispered in his ear.

“As long as all of them are with me,” he replied, kissing the corner of her mouth. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

By the time they managed to extricate themselves from the party—sneaking behind a tapestry and up a hidden staircase—Killian thought he was going to burst. Emma had spent all of their remaining time on the ballroom floor whispering everything she wanted him to do to her once they were free. Then everything she planned on doing to _him._ After giving him a detailed description of just how wet and aching for him she was, he maneuvered them forcefully to the edge of the crowd so they could make their escape. Emma directed him to the tapestry and just like that they were alone.

Killian pressed her against the hard stonewall, holding her in place with his hips as he devoured her mouth in a heated, desperate kiss. “Gods, I need to fuck you,” he muttered, tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth. “Bloody hell, lass.”

“So fuck me.”

They were alone, but Killian could still hear the ball going on not twenty feet away. “Not here,” he said, rolling his hips into hers anyway. He groaned, trying to focus long enough to figure out where to take her. Making it all the way back to their suite was out of the question; he'd never last that long. “Come on.” He took her hand, jerking her along after him, a giggle tumbling from her lips.

When they got to the end of the hidden staircase, the door came out behind another tapestry. It appeared to be a deserted hallway; Killian wasn't even sure what part of the castle they were in. But it didn't matter. After checking that the coast was clear, Killian and Emma moved down the hallway, searching for the first unlocked empty room they could find.

Killian swung open the heavy door, ushering Emma quickly inside. He was on her before the door closed completely, pulling her to him so their bodies were flush, kissing her like he would never get to again. “You are a naughty, dirty, little minx, princess,” he said, his hand moving over the laces of her gown until he found the curve of her ass. He nipped at her pale throat, tasting her skin. “Gods, I love you.”

“I've been going crazy all day,” Emma breathed, fingers grabbing his coat for purchase. “I just _need_ you.”

“I'll take care you of you, love.” Killian pulled himself away from her skin long enough to spot a large oak desk, illuminated by the bright light of the nearly full moon coming through the exceedingly tall windows. He backed them up to it, pressing Emma against it, thankful he'd found a surface from which he could fuck her the way he'd been imagining for the last several hours.

He kissed her again, a fierce battle of lips and tongues and teeth. Emma pushed on his coat; it fell to the floor in a heap. Killian's hook got caught on her gown—the gorgeous red gown he loved so much—and there was a loud ripping sound.

“Tear it,” Emma demanded. “Gods, just rip it off!”

Remembering that she'd given him complete free reign when it came to her clothes, Killian did as she ordered, tearing at the fabric with his hook, just as eager to have her out of it as she was. When he finally pulled the last of the ruined silk from her body, Emma was left in nothing but her blood red corset, complete with matching heels. “Fuck, Emma,” Killian growled, his cock twitching in his pants. She looked good enough to eat.

“You like it?”

He nodded mutely. Her skin looked almost silver in the moonlight, breasts heaving, straining against the lace of the corset. He wanted to lick every patch of skin, kiss her and fuck her until she screamed his name all at once. Emma pushed off from the desk and pressed her body to his, hand moving between them and palming his hard straining cock. Killian groaned, hips bucking into her touch.

“The only question is: are you going to fuck me with this _on_ or not?” Emma drawled, lips hovering over his, her warm breath in his face.

“Definitely _on_ ,” Killian replied, arm wrapping around her waist, good hand slipping down under her thigh, his hooked arm sweeping all the sundry things from the top of the desk. He picked her up and unceremoniously deposited her on top of it. “I'm going to fuck you here, then take you back to our room and have you over and over again, you bloody siren.”

Emma let out a tiny whimper, already fidgeting on the desk. “Just hurry up and get inside me, pirate.”

Killian growled again, impossibly turned on as she so expertly pushed _all_ of his buttons. His hand tore at the laces of his pants, almost frantic now to get them off. Or at least free enough so that he could take her. He shoved the stiff leather roughly down his hips, stepping between Emma's spread legs. He used his hook to pull the soaked fabric of her knickers aside, rubbing his aching cock over her sopping flesh.

“So wet,” he breathed. “Gods.” She must have been thinking about him all day, just waiting for this moment when he would bring her pleasure she needed.

“Killian...” Emma whined, rolling her hips wantonly.

“Lean back on your arms, princess.” As soon as she did as he bid, he thrust forward until he was completely sheathed inside her aching center. _“Fuck.”_ Killian wasted no time; he started moving with sure deep strokes. Now that he finally had her, he didn't want to stop. He pulled her legs up, wrapping his arms under her knees, leaning her back a bit more. The new angle got him even deeper inside her and Emma cried out her approval. “Is this what you wanted, love? What you thought about all day, just aching for me?”

“Fuck yes,” Emma cried, her golden head falling back. “So fucking good, Killian.”

Killian groaned at the sight before him, his princess spread out before him, chest heaving, hair spilling from her elegant knot, lips wet and parted as she begged for his touch. “You are bloody gorgeous,” he gasped, driving into her, trying to give her what she wanted. “And all _mine.”_ He remembered the way those other men were looking at her, coveting what was his.

“Gods, yes. Yours, all yours.” She bucked against him, her legs shaking in his hold, a low whimper on her lips. _“Close.”_

Killian moved faster, adjusting his angle yet again, letting out a satisfied grunt when she cried out. He pounded into her, hitting that spot again and again, until she was shuddering in his hold, walls clamping around him, his name a prayer on her lips. Killian fucked her through it, chasing his own release.

Emma's arms gave out; she fell back against the desk with a soft thud. Killian let go of her right leg, letting it fall. Instead, he hoisted her left leg up to his shoulder, kissing the soft skin of her calf. He heard Emma's low moan, her breathing hitch. “Oh gods...Killian...”

He'd come to know that faintly incredulous voice over the last few weeks, the one that was still surprised that she could still need him after seemingly reaching the heights of pleasure. He couldn't help the surge of pride he felt that he had done this to her, that he had made her need him this much. Killian pressed more kisses to her burning skin, slowing his thrusts so he would last. He wanted her to come undone for him again.

“That's it, love,” he murmured. “I've got you.” He slid his hand down her leg, thumb brushing just above where they were joined. Emma jerked at his touch, her head lolling, a gasp tearing from her throat. Killian grunted a curse, loving how responsive she was, even to the lightest touch. “You're gonna come again for me, lass.” He moved his thumb in tight circles, picking up his pace. His legs were trembling; he wasn't going to last much longer.

Emma's head thrashed, lip caught between her teeth. “Killian...I...I... _need...”_

“Let go, Emma. _Now.”_

Her back arched as she climaxed again, her hoarse cry echoing in the large room. Killian grunted and gasped as his own climax ripped through him, hips jerking as Emma's tight walls milked him dry. When he finally stilled, Killian leaned heavily on the solid desk, spent.

Emma reached for him weakly, lacing their fingers together. “Love you.”

Killian could only muster a faint half smile, even though her words made his chest ache. He could live a thousand years and not find someone he loved as much as he loved her.

They stayed like for some time, just trying to regain their breath and sanity. Killian recovered first, straightening up and readjusting his pants. He only half tucked in his shirt; he'd be discarding it soon enough. After shrugging on his coat, Killian gathered up the tattered remains of Emma's gown. She gave him a mischievous grin as he wrapped her up in it, covering her as best he could. Then he picked her up and started the long walk back to their suite so they could enjoy the rest of their evening in peace.

* * *

“I almost hate to peel you out of this,” Emma said quietly, looking up at him through her lashes. They were back in their suite, having taken the most deserted corridors to return. Killian wasn't overly fond of anyone seeing his princess in her freshly fucked state. Now she was sitting on the edge of their bed, with Killian standing between her spread legs, the shreds of her gown discarded on the floor. “You are ridiculously sexy like this, Killian.”

Killian puffed out his chest, proud grin curling his lips. “So I noticed. Or was it your plan all along to drive me completely daft with all those dirty little words, princess?”

Emma ran her hands up over the leather of his pants and the silk of his vest. Even through the cloth, her touch burned. Would there ever be a time he didn't want her? He hoped not. “Well...I had a feeling we'd be leaving early, just not like this.”

“Love, I wanted you from the moment I realized you were wearing _this_ ,” he said, his hand tracing the lace of her corset. “Did you wear this just for me?”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did an excellent job, darling.” He cupped her cheek with his good hand. “And you were brilliant out there. My enchanting princess.”

“I used to hate things like that,” she admitted. “But tonight was fun.”

“That's because you had a dashing pirate on your arm. Much better than some stuffy ponce of a prince.”

“A dashing _sexy_ pirate,” Emma corrected him. “And I wasn't the only one who noticed.”

“All I could see was you.” Let them look if they wanted; Killian didn't want anyone else. Emma was more than enough for him.

Emma smiled softly, just at the corners of her lips. She tugged on his charms, pulling him down for a kiss. It wasn't chaste; it was deep and possessive, a faint growl coming from the back of her throat. Killian had to step back a fraction to remain upright, his hand anchoring itself in her blonde tresses. He adored this demanding, possessive side of her, perfectly willing to accede to her wishes. “I think I want to unwrap my pirate now,” she breathed against his lips, fingers branding the skin at the open neck of his shirt.

“By all means, love,” he said with a grin, stealing another kiss before raising back up to his full height.

Emma stood, still in her heels, her hands reaching out for the lapels of his coat. He watched as she toyed with them, finally pushing fabric back off his shoulders until it fell to the floor. She leaned in, her lips brushing the exposed hollow of his throat, as Killian tried to stay still for her. Her small hands glided down, deftly unbuttoning his vest; it joined his coat on the floor. A breathy sigh escaped as her hands moved up under his shirt, kneading the taut muscles of his back. Little sparks jumped between them as she touched him, her green eyes darkening with desire. Killian's hand found her hip, fingers teasing the lacy edges of her corset. He finally had to let go so she could pull the white linen over his head, her warm mouth latching onto his chest the moment it was exposed to her.

“Ah,” Killian breathed, his eyes rolling back in his head. It was such a simple touch, but it felt like she was branding him with her mouth, making sure her touch was the only one he craved. She flicked at his nipples with her tongue and Killian groaned, his hand curling around her lower back, pulling her closer to him _“Emma.”_

“Hmm?” The hum vibrated against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Don't stop,” he said in a broken whisper.

She grinned at him, thoroughly pleased with her work. Her lips were back on his chest, following the trail of hair down his torso. She palmed his hardening cock briefly, then ducked down to pull off his boots. Emma ran her hands up over his leather clad legs from ankle to hip; finally, _finally_ she reached for his laces. Killian sighed as the pressure eased, watching with hooded eyes as she peeled the leather from his body.

“You're beautiful,” Emma said softly, as her fingertips moved over his bare skin.

“Hardly, love,” he replied. Killian wasn't a fool; he knew he garnered female attention wherever he went. He'd used it to his advantage more occasions than he cared to count. But he knew the truth. He was reminded every time he caught sight of the brace and steel at the end of his ruined arm.

As if reading his mind, Emma's gaze flickered to his hook, lifting it up to eye level, caressing it lovingly. “You are gorgeous,” she reiterated, her eyes locked with his. She unbuckled his brace with practiced movements, laying it aside on the nightstand. She brought his stump up to her lips and kissed it; Killian had to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat. He didn't know what he'd done to get her, but he wasn't—couldn't—be without her ever again. His arm got trapped between them when she closed the gap, kissing him again. Killian sank into it, hauling her against him with his free hand, trying to show her without words just how much she meant to him.

Lost to the dizzying feeling of his lips on hers, Killian made no protest when she maneuvered them to the bed, easing him onto his back. The mattress dipped with their combined weight, Emma pausing only long enough to kick off her shoes. Her mouth resumed its place worshipping his body, just as he'd done for her so many times. The satin and lace that covered her still rubbed deliciously over his nude body; Killian bit his lip to keep from whimpering. She was slowly driving him _mad_ ; it felt like his body was melting from the inside out, cock now painfully hard, breath coming in harsh pants. Killian pulled frantically at the laces of her corset, wanting to feast on her nakedness. It came free quickly and Emma helped him shuck it off.

“Emma,” he croaked, hips bucking upwards fruitlessly. “Please, love. I need you.”

He caught a glimpse of her shimmying out of her knickers, then she was straddling him. She positioned herself at an angle, straddling his leg instead of his hips. Killian groaned, realizing what she had in mind. He bent his leg up, allowing her the leverage to impale herself onto his straining cock. Their mutual groans of satisfaction filled the air as he slipped into her dripping heat.

“Fuck,” Emma breathed, back arching. She rocked in his lap, moving far too slowly for Killian's liking, but he made no protest. She was in control now. “I love when you're in me, Killian. Feels _so_ good.”

“Tell me, lass,” he breathed. He couldn't take his eyes off her; watching transfixed as she rode him slowly, his cock disappearing inside her. Her breasts bounced, peaks stiff and aching; he wanted to suck them until she begged for mercy.

“Oh gods, deep, so _deep_ , Killian. I feel so _full. Fuck_...I need this...you. All the time.”

Killian bucked up under her, trying desperately to hang onto some thread of his sanity. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her leg; she'd have bruises in the morning, he was sure. “Faster, Emma. Fuck.” As much as he wanted this to last, he was barely hanging on as it was. And he needed her to come first. “Touch yourself, love. Come for me, _please.”_

Emma obeyed him, her left hand slipping down to where they were joined. Her breathing hitched almost instantly as she rocked faster, using his body to get herself off. Gods, she was glorious. She screamed out his name as her climax struck, body trembling above him. He roared as he followed almost instantly, hips bucking up off the bed. What little breath he had left came out in a rush as she collapsed on top of him, skin slick with sweat and heart thumping hard against her ribs.

With more finesse than he thought himself capable of, he rolled them onto their sides; Emma buried her face in his neck, her pants warm on his skin. He eased her down from her high, gently stroking her arm, completely arrested by her beauty.

Killian must have dozed because the next thing he knew their room was doused in darkness. More worryingly, the bed was empty. He rolled over, seeking Emma in the dark. As his eyes adjusted, he realized it was not quite as dark as he first imagined. Emma stood by the double doors that led to the balcony, a thick wool blanket wrapped around her. She was staring out into the starry night, looking lost in thought.

Killian swung his legs out of bed, wincing when his feet hit the cold floor. He padded over to her, still nude despite the freezing temperatures. “It's late,” he said softly, his voice gravelly from sleep. He wrapped his arms around her waist, hand resting on her stomach. He could feel the bump there, where Liam was growing inside her.

“I couldn't sleep.”

Killian frowned. “Was it a nightmare? Or do you need...”

“No, nothing like that,” she replied, leaning her head back on his shoulder. “I just...” She sighed, eyes falling closed. “Killian...are you happy?”

“Of course, love.”

Emma turned in his arms, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “No, I mean _are you happy?_ I couldn't stand it if I kept you from...whatever.” She shrugged helplessly, unsure of how to put her feelings into words.

“Emma...” He paused, thinking. “Love, I am in love with the most incredible woman I've ever met. And even more bizarre, _she loves me_. You've give me everything I've ever wanted; we're having a son, who will no doubt be as stubborn as his mother. So yes, Emma, I am _happy_. Far happier than this pirate probably deserves. And I will spend the rest of my life making sure _you_ are happy.”

“I miss it sometimes. Being on the ship,” she clarified, leaning against him.

Killian wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “So do I. But this life is ours too, Emma. I'll admit that it happened sooner than I expected, but somehow I knew we'd end up with something like this.”

“You did?”

“You're the only thing I would give up everything for, Emma. My heart belongs to you. Whether we lived in some seaside shack or in a castle or on the _Jolly Roger..._ the place doesn't matter as long as I have you. You and our children are all I need.”

Emma smiled. “Children? As in more than one?”

“Unless, of course, you only want one,” he said immediately.

“I was an only child,” she replied softly. “I always wanted a brother or sister. If we can give Liam that, then I want to.”

Killian bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “We'll wait a little while before that, darling. But I'm definitely glad to hear it.” He hugged her tight, overwhelmed with love for her. “Come, it's bloody freezing out here. Let's get you back to bed.”

Killian guided her back to the bed, taking the blanket as she slipped under the heavy quilt. Quickly, he spread the blanket she'd been using over top and climbed in himself. Emma snuggled up against him, her body pleasantly warm against his chilled skin. He hummed an old sea shanty as he stroked her hair, soothing her until she fell asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

“Come to papa, lad. You can do it!”

Emma laughed, watching her husband and son as she put away their lunch. Killian knelt on the blanket, arms outstretched, encouraging their almost year old boy to take his first steps. Liam looked so much like his father—all blue eyes, dark hair and aggressiveness—it made Emma's heart ache. They were her two favorite people in the whole world.

“Killian, he's not even a year old yet. Give him some time,” she chided as she resumed her place by his side.

“He's a Jones,” Killian reminded her. “Early walkers, love. I promise you.”

“Yeah, well, he's also a _prince_ and can walk whenever he pleases!”

Killian huffed at her and turned back to their son, who just stared at them with wide eyes. Little Liam stood on wobbly legs, tiny fist hovering near his mouth, as if contemplating his next move. Killian called out for him again, urging him to walk over to his papa.

Emma swore she only looked away for a moment—she thought she saw an unusual flash in the woods—then she was startled by Killian's happy shout.

“That's it, Liam! Come on, just a few more steps! Papa's got you!”

Emma whipped her head around, seeing her son—her amazing, adorable son— _walking_ . They were unsteady, tentative steps, but Liam was  _walking_ . Unexpected tears welled in her eyes as Liam closed the small space between father and son, Killian picking the boy up the moment he came within reach. Killian whooped and laughed, an ecstatic grin on his handsome face. Liam struggled a bit in his father's hold, but in moments was smiling too, just happy to see his papa so happy.

“Did you see him, love? Did you see?” Killian exclaimed as he hugged their precious son. “I bloody told you! He's a Jones for sure!”

Emma was still blinking back tears, reaching out for her boys when a cold shiver raced down her spine.

“I do so hate to separate fathers and sons,” a voice Emma had hoped to never hear again said softly.

Emma was up in a flash, putting herself between Killian and Rumplestiltskin. “Killian, take Liam and  _go_ .”

“I'm not leaving you, Emma.” She heard Liam start to cry, struggling to get out of Killian's arms.

“Killian, _please_. I can't do this with you here. You have to take Liam. Please.”

She could sense him warring with himself, his duty as a father and his loyalty to her making him hesitate.

“I'd listen to the princess, _pirate_ ,” Rumplestiltskin spat. “You wouldn't want the boy's last memories of his mother to be a bloody broken corpse, now would you?”

“You're a coward, Rumplestiltskin,” Killian said in disgust. “Willing to do _anything_ for your own self preservation.”

“An ironic accusation coming from a pirate as infamous as you.”

“Go to hell.”

“Only if you ask nicely.” Before Emma could blink, a huge fireball shot directly at Killian. She reacted instinctively; Killian and Liam were gone in a whirl of white smoke, leaving Emma alone with the Dark One. But they were safe. Her son and her husband were _safe_.

“Do gooders,” Rumplestiltskin tsked, suddenly materializing in front of her. “Always so predictable.” His hand closed around her throat, cutting off her air in a flash. She struggled, trying to call up a spell, any spell, but nothing came. Emma panicked, gasping and clawing, her feet lifting off the ground. Rumplestiltskin wasn't even breaking a sweat as the life drained from her body.

“ _Emma! Wake up!”_

Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, splashing sounds echoing in her ears.  _What the hell?_

“Nearly scared me to bloody death!” Killian. Alive. Thank the gods. Her heart was still racing, but she started to calm the instant his frightened blue eyes locked with her equally terrified green ones. He pulled her by the arm, up into a more secure seated position. “What the bleeding hell were you _doing?”_

It took her a moment to get her bearings. She was in the tub. The water was cold. She remembered asking Greta to draw her a bath after Killian had left to take care of a few things on the  _Jolly_ .

“I fell asleep?” she said helplessly. She hadn't had a dream like that in _weeks_. And not even her netherworld nightmares had been anything like that. It was almost as if Rumplestiltskin was inside her head. She shivered.

“What? What's wrong?” Killian asked worriedly. “Talk to me, Emma.”

“I had a dream. A bad one. Rumplestiltskin was in it.”

“ _What?”_ His eyes were instantly wary and alert looking around the room for any sign of danger. Then he slid his hand under her arm.”Come on, love. I'm getting you out of there.”

Reluctantly, Emma pulled herself up, water sluicing over her naked body. She shivered in the chilly air as she stepped out, wrapping her arms around herself until Killian could fetch her a towel and her robe. She flicked her hand toward the hearth, the fire coming to life instantly. Unfortunately, the fire reminded her too much of the dream; by the time Killian returned, she was shaking uncontrollably.

“Love...Emma, you're shaking like a leaf,” he said, sounding slightly alarmed. When she didn't take the towel from him, he threw her robe aside and dried her shivering body himself. When he was finished, he wrapped the robe around her with exquisite care, using his mouth to tie it off. Normally, such a move would arouse her, but that was the last thing on her mind right then. Killian picked up the towel again and guided her to one of the oversized armchairs and sat, pulling her into his lap.

“Can you tell me about your dream, sweetheart?” Killian asked gently, his eyes worried.

Emma shrugged; she still wasn't looking at the fire she'd conjured. “I didn't mean to fall asleep, Killian. All I wanted a warm bath.” She didn't have too many aches—yet—but with all the activity in the castle, all the arrivals, she got tired more easily and needed to relax. She truly hadn't meant to fall asleep. In fact, she'd been hoping Killian would join her when he returned. So much for that.

“Of course you didn't, darling. It's no wonder with all those overstuffed peacocks around here.”

“Right after you left, I asked Greta to draw a bath for me. I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“What did you see?”

Her hand drifted to her stomach, right where the little bump was. Emma swallowed; the images still crystal clear. “It was us,” she said quietly. “You and me and...Liam. We were out for a picnic. Liam was still small, maybe a year old?” She didn't have much experience with babies. She looked into Killian's face. “He looks like you. Black hair, those blue eyes. But he has my chin.”

Killian gave her a half smile. “I happen to think you have a very cute chin, love.” He brushed thumb over it lovingly.

Emma tried to smile, but her lips only made the barest of moves. “Anyway, you were trying to get him to walk. You know, walk toward you? I looked away for only a moment, but you managed it. I looked back and our son was walking. It was...I was...”

“Happy?”

Her lip trembled; Emma bit down on it. “Yeah. But then  _he_ ...Rumplestiltskin showed up. I told you to take Liam and go, but you wouldn't. He...he...tried to hurt you so I sent you away, but then...” She sucked in a breath, still able to feel Rumplestiltskin's fingers on her throat. “He choked me. I tried to fight, to do  _something_ ...but my magic...there was  _nothing_ . That's when you woke me up.”

Killian hugged her close, not quite as easy as it once had been. “You were thrashing something awful, love. I didn't think I could wake you.”

“It felt real.”

“You're alright now, darling. I've got you. It was just a dream.”

Emma let him hold her, rock her gently. Slowly, she could feel her terror ebb away. But the dream still worried her. “Killian?”

“Yes, love?”

“What if...what if this is like before?”

“What do...oh, you mean what if this is another prophetic dream?” Emma nodded. “I don't know, Emma. If so, it's months off. Liam won't even be born for another what? Five months?”

“That doesn't mean we should sit around and do nothing,” Emma argued.

“I didn't say that. We'll bring it up with Tink the next time she's here. See if she knows how to tell the difference.” He tried to sound confident but his eyes was worried. “You haven't had a nightmare for a long time.”

Emma caught his frown. “What's wrong?”

“It's just...” Killian scrubbed his hand over his face. “If we hadn't met, you wouldn't be having terrifying nightmares. First Randle, then that...demon. You're hurting because of me.”

Emma shook her head. “Killian, Rumplestiltskin would want my powers whether I had met you or not. And if I  _hadn't_ met you, I might never have even discovered I had magic. I wouldn't have stood a chance when the Dark One came after me.”

“But love...”

“No. This is _not_ your fault. Not Randle and certainly not Rumplestiltskin. I love you. I'm stronger because you're in my life. I could never regret something that makes me so happy. _You_ make me happy, Killian. And Liam will too.”

Killian brushed her cheeks with his finger; she hadn't even realized she was crying. “We'll find a way, Emma. I swear to you. We'll find a way to make sure our family is safe.”

“I know.” She leaned forward and kissed his lips softly. “Can we just stay here? For a little while? I don't really want to see anyone today.” Emma was sure that if she showed her face, her mother would rope her into tea with some of their visiting princesses. She just wasn't up to the tedium.

“We can do whatever you wish, my love.”

Emma thought. “Read to me?”

“Of course.” Killian kissed her temple before gently easing her off his lap. She took the towel and tried to dry her hair a bit while Killian found them the perfect book. When he returned, they settled on the couch; Emma snuggled into his side as he started to read. “Once upon a time...”

* * *

They were late. Her mother had sent a note with their supper the night before that the Council meeting was to start promptly at ten. But Emma had had another nightmare; she and Killian overslept, as he'd stayed up with her to soothe her. By the time they'd woken up and dressed—there was no time for breakfast—and headed across the castle, Emma knew they would be very late.

“No respect,” Emma heard when they opened the door. Whoever was speaking sounded irritated and petulant. “Your daughter and her... _pirate_ might have considered that not _everyone_ here can afford a lie in. Especially when it involves matters of state.”

Emma's mouth twisted in disgust as she finally recognized the voice. Aurora. Both her husband, Philip, and Snow came to Emma's defense, reminding the annoyed queen that with all the wedding excitement, it was okay to be a little late. Emma felt Killian's hackles rise as he strode in next to her, arm wrapped securely around her shoulder. “Just who does she think she is?” he muttered.

“That's Aurora,” Emma whispered. “Don't mind her; she's always like that. Looks down her royal nose at everyone. Except her husband.”

“I'll try, love. But if she insults you, don't expect me to take that lying down.”

Emma smiled tightly up at him; it was time to make their presence known. She strode forward, shoulders square, into the light with Killian at her side. “Sorry, we're late,” she said loudly, cutting off several whispered conversations. “We overslept.”

“I'll bet you did,” Grumpy mumbled from a corner. He didn't look happy to have he and the other dwarves shunted off to the side to make room for all the royalty. Emma tried not to take his mood personally.

“What matters is you're here now,” Snow said firmly. She gestured to the empty seats between her and David, effectively cocooning Emma and Killian from the rest of the guests. As a family. Emma smiled gratefully at her mother, knowing how much her parents' acceptance of Killian meant. It could have gone completely differently, very nearly had. It had taken David much longer to warm up to the man his little girl loved than it did Snow.

Killian helped Emma into her seat, nodding politely to Snow. Emma reached for him as soon as he was seated, wanting no one to misunderstand exactly who and what Killian was to her.

“Well, if everyone is here, perhaps we could get started?” David asked, standing.

“Wait, where's Tinkerbell?” Emma asked, looking around for her green clad friend. She'd was hoping to corner the fairy right after the meeting, ask about her recent nightmares.

“She's overseeing in the mines,” Blue spoke up. “In my stead. I'll let her know you wish to see her.”

Emma nodded, still not completely satisfied. It sounded plausible enough; she'd grown up listening to the stories of where fairy dust and pixie dust came from. Her godfather was a dwarf. But there was that lingering odd feeling about the Blue Fairy and her motivations that Emma couldn't shake. _Tink is fine,_ she chided herself. _You can talk to her tomorrow._

She turned her attention back to her father, who was introducing everyone. Emma knew most of them on sight; the introduction was more for Killian's benefit than anything else. Although there were a few faces even Emma didn't know. For instance, a auburn haired princess, her hair in braids, sitting with a tall blonde bear of a man. Despite his size, the prince looked a bit uncomfortable, but very much enamored with his princess. They reminded Emma a bit of her and Killian.

When David got to Ariel and Eric, the couple smiled warmly at them; Ariel nodding encouragingly. Emma and Ariel shared a look when their men gave each other respectful nods. Emma was glad; Eric was probably the one prince who Killian could relate to, as they were both sailors. Perhaps it was a friendship in the making.

Emma barely glanced at Philip and Aurora. She liked Philip well enough; he'd always been kind to her on the handful of occasions they met. How such a kind man could be married to a woman as difficult as Aurora blew her mind. Maybe the Queen had been nicer when she was younger. Snow had spoken fondly of her friend when Emma was younger, but that had been before Aurora had tried to convince Emma to marry her son. Things had been strained between the two women ever since. It was a testament to how dire the situation with the Dark One was that Philip and Aurora were here at all.

“My sister is sorry she couldn't come herself,” a slightly nervous yet peppy voice said, pulling Emma out of her thoughts. “But she didn't feel like she could leave Arendelle just on the cusp of winter. A _real_ one.” The princess laughed nervously, as if there was a joke there no one else was getting.

“It's perfectly alright,” Snow said kindly. “It was very kind of Queen Elsa to send you and Kristoff in her stead, Anna.”

“We're not very... _fond_ of Rumplestiltskin in Arendelle,” Anna said seriously. “Not after he tried to imprison my sister in an urn.”

“We've all suffered at the hands of that monster,” Ariel chimed in. “Almost everyone one of us.” Around the table, kings, queens, princes and princesses nodded their agreement.

“Which brings us to why Snow and I have asked you all here,” David said, resuming his seat.

“I thought we were here for a wedding,” Aurora said, looking at David with a searching look. “Unless that was all a ruse?”

Killian's hand tightened in Emma's. She could see the muscle in his jaw twitching. Emma rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand to soothe him. They needed to lay their case out before their guests before anyone lost their temper. Emma didn't like it either, but this was important.

“There's definitely a wedding,” David said calmly. “But there's a story behind that wedding that all of you should hear.”

David looked at his family; Snow and Emma nodded encouragingly. Emma knew that she and Killian would have to take over the story at some point, but she was more than willing to let her father go first.

It almost felt like an out of body experience, listening to her father tell the tale. Of how Rumplestiltskin had come to them and asked—no, demanded—Emma's hand for his son. How Emma, angry and willful, had run away from her home, only to be found by a notorious pirate. She was glad that David had left off how Emma and Killian had really met; her parents still didn't know about just _when_ Killian had taken her maidenhead. They didn't need to know. That and everything that went with it was private.

From there Emma picked up the story, giving an edited version of the adventures she'd had with Killian on the _Jolly Roger._ Killian really got into it, often finishing Emma's sentences for her. But then again, her pirate was a born storyteller, loved to talk. It wasn't until they reached the part where Emma had left that Killian clammed up. Emma squeezed his hand sympathetically. She hated that she'd made him feel that way.

There were a few gasps of horror when Emma described what had awaited her in the Dark One's castle. How she'd been locked in a dungeon, then chained to a stone table, nearly having her nascent powers stripped. She didn't tell them about Liam; indeed Emma had extracted a promise from everyone who did know about her son to not say a word. She wanted to protect him for as long as possible. Let everyone do the math after he was born.

“But how?” Cinderella asked. “How did you defeat him, Emma?”

“I didn't,” she said honestly. “I merely stopped him from taking my heart. I have no idea how though.” That part of her powers Emma still didn't understand.

“How do we know you're telling the truth?” Aurora snapped. “How does someone like _you_ acquire magic?”

“She didn't _acquire_ it, your worship,” Killian said darkly. “It's _in_ her. She's a made of it. A product of True Love.”

“What?”

“It's true,” the Blue Fairy affirmed. “Emma, as the product of True Love, has an extraordinary gift. She is the only one who can truly defeat the Dark One. Forever.”

“I don't believe it.”

Killian stood abruptly; the chair shoving back violently. _“Are you saying she's making it up?”_

“Don't talk to me like that, _pirate.”_

“I'll talk like that to anyone who insults Emma, _your highness._ ”

“Killian, it's alright,” Emma said.

“No, it's bloody well _not_ alright. You nearly died because of that sodding demon. I won't stand by and let anyone call you a liar, royalty or not.”

Emma sighed. Somehow she'd suspected it would come to this. That there would be those who wanted to proof. Proof that Emma was magical. It wasn't something she looked forward to, but a small demonstration wouldn't hurt. She stood, her hand on Killian's arm. “Let me show you.”

Emma held out her other hand, a small ball of fire hovering in her palm. There was a collective gasp; some of the onlookers even had wide popping eyes. Emma flicked her wrist and the ball of fire exploded into a shower of sparks, a heavy rock thunking on the wide round table in front of her. It wasn't much, but she didn't want to frighten anyone.

She expected disbelief or praise or wonder or _something._ Instead all she got was a derisive laugh. “Why you?”

Emma turned her head. Aurora was looking at her with narrowed eyes. “I'm not sure I know what you mean.”

“I mean, why you? Why do _you_ specifically get this power? You're not the only child of True Love. Philip woke _me_ with True Love's Kiss too. Why don't Louis and Jack have powers?”

Emma shrugged. “I don't know. I don't even _want_ these powers. But I have them. And I'll use them when the time comes.”

“Well, it sounds like you've got everything under control, princess. If you're going to save us all from Rumplestiltskin, then what do you need us for?”

“Because Emma shouldn't have to protect your sorry asses by herself,” Killian said, voice dripping sarcasm.

“The Captain is right,” Snow interjected. “Rumplestiltskin has terrorized us all too long. _We_ must act. Band together for the common good. Rumplestiltskin is only one man, what can he do against a united front?”

“Snow, you're talking about antagonizing the most powerful sorcerer in our world!” Aurora cried. “Have you gone insane?”

“I will not allow my child to fight that monster alone, Aurora. Retreat back to your fortress if you must. But I'm fighting.”

There were nods of agreement from around the table. The only holdout seemed to be Philip and Aurora. “Philip,” Aurora said to her husband. “Say something.”

“I trust Snow and David, Aurora. If the tables were turned and it was Louis or Jack, would we do anything else?”

Aurora looked mutinous, but ultimately nodded. “What do you need from us?” Philip asked.

The rest of the meeting passed in a flurry of talk. David and Snow did most of the talking, allowing Emma and Killian to relax. Her magical demonstration hadn't been that taxing, but since she wasn't sleeping was well as she usually did, she was exhausted. Killian held her hand, a steady calming presence. He whispered some of his observations in her ear, brushing a kiss to her temple. Hunger started to gnaw at her; it felt like she could eat the arm right off her chair.

“I think they're nearly finished, love,” Killian whispered. “Then we'll get you and the little one something to eat, yeah?”

At last, David rose and announced that the final treaty would be drafted and ready by the day of the wedding. Emma had nearly forgotten that her wedding was doubling as a treaty signing. Still, she didn't mind. Protecting her family was more important than a ceremony.

She and Killian were heading out when a voice called her name. Emma turned; Princess Anna was walking hurriedly to catch up, dragging her prince with her.

“Sorry,” Anna said, as she skidded to a stop. “We wanted to catch you before you left. Didn't we, Kristoff?” Kristoff nodded sagely. Clearly, he wasn't the talker in that relationship.

“Did you need something....?”

“Anna, princess of Arendelle. My sister...Elsa...wow, you remind me _so_ much of her. It's kinda freaky actually.”

“How's that?” Killian cut in.

“You mean, you've never heard the story?”

“What story?”

“Oh, it's nothing. Just...my sister has powers. Ice, you know? Ice and snow and well, she tried to hide it from me. For like... _years._ But then they got out of control and she put Arendelle into deep freeze. Completely by accident of course. My fault, really.”

“I wouldn't say _that_ ,” Kristoff said, speaking for the first time. He was looking so fondly at Anna, Emma was certain there was a story there.

“Look, we were just going to get some lunch. Would you like to join us?” Emma asked.

Anna looked _delighted_. “Definitely.”

Killian threw her a look, but Emma just shrugged. She didn't know many people who hadn't become corrupted by magic. If this Elsa was as Anna had said, perhaps there really was hope that Emma could do this destiny thing without losing herself. Or anyone she loved.

* * *

“Gods, that woman can _talk_ ,” Killian said heavily when they got back to their room.

“She's certainly...enthusiastic,” Emma agreed. “I like her.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Killian pulled off his boots, coat, and brace, flopping down on the bed. “I was this close to putting a muzzle on her.”

“Kristoff doesn't seem to mind.”

“Man has the patience of a bloody saint.” Killian tapped the space next to him, wanting Emma to join him. “But he's a good bloke.”

“He isn't royal either,” Emma reminded him, slipping off her own shoes and joining Killian on the bed. She rolled into his side, head on his chest. “Although if that Prince Hans is half as bad as Anna said, she definitely got the better end of that.”

“After saving her sister's life.” Killian wrapped his braceless arm around her, holding her as close as he could.

“An act of True Love. We know all about those, don't we?”

Killian kissed the top of her head. “Aye, that we do.”

They were quiet for long moments; Emma almost thought Killian was asleep. But then he started to hum and she knew he was trying to coax _her_ into sleep.

“Killian?”

“Yes, love?”

“Do you think I can do it?”

“I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more specific.”

“Defeat Rumplestiltskin,” she said quietly. “And not...lose myself. I don't want to...gods, I don't want to hurt anyone, Killian.” She couldn't say anything like this to anyone else. She had to be brave, strong. But with Killian she could voice her fears.

“You can do whatever you set your mind to, Emma,” Killian said firmly. “I believe that. Look at us! With everything going against us, we still managed to find each other and be happy. We can defeat the Dark One. Together.”

“I don't want to lose you.” The nightmares were still fresh; every time Killian was taken from her.

“You won't. It'll take a lot more than the ruddy Dark One to get rid of Killian Jones.”

“I love you, Killian.” Sometimes Emma thought she didn't say that enough, that somehow even now he didn't know how she felt.

“I love you too, lass. Always.” He tipped her face up and gently kissed her lips. “You sleep, love. I'll watch over you.”

Emma smiled at him gratefully. Then she closed her eyes and settled in to get some rest. In moments, the soft sounds of Killian's low hum filled the air; Emma drifted off into what she hoped would be a dreamless sleep.

* * *

_There has to be something,_ Emma thought as she flipped through yet another dusty book.  _You just haven't found the right one yet._

She was in the library, back in a not often trodden corner of the stacks. Her corner was lit by only a small window, but she had a candle. There was still no sign of Tinkerbell, even though the Blue Fairy had assured her that the blonde fairy would arrive as soon as she was able. It wasn't like Tink to keep Emma waiting. Just that morning Emma had sent a note to her friend, hoping to bypass the Blue Fairy entirely. In the meantime, she resolved to do  _something_ about her disturbing dreams. Her wedding was a little over a week away and the vain part of her didn't want to look like some sleep starved zombie. She needed to rest. 

After convincing Killian that she was fine—a white lie that she wasn't sure he believed—she headed off to the library to do some research. Since Tinkerbell wasn't there to answer her questions, then maybe there was a book that could. With the help of their old royal librarian, who looked both delighted and a bit alarmed at Emma's request, she found a couple stacks of books to start looking through. It felt a bit like her boring studies all over again, but there was nothing for it. She was getting a bit desperate. Emma couldn't shake the feeling that these dreams were magical somehow, especially with the suddenness of them. She'd been fine for weeks and now she couldn't sleep for more than a couple of hours without waking in a cold sweat, having dreamt up some other horrible way for her to lose Killian all over again. It had to stop.

“There you are, love.”

Emma looked up from her book— _Observations on Darke Magik—_ and forced a smile. “Hey.”

“You alright, Emma? Your mother said you came here as soon as I left.”

“Fine,” she said in a flat voice.

Killian frowned and pulled back the chair next to her, the scratch of wood echoing in the quiet library. “You don't look fine.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Killian brushed a lock of hair back from her face. “You're always beautiful to me, lass. You know that.”

Emma smiled again, a real one this time. “Very smooth, Captain.”

“Merely stating a fact, love. I happen to love the most beautiful woman in all the realms.” He thumbed her cheek. “But you do look worried, Emma.”

“I was hoping that Tink would have been here by now. I can't just sit around waiting, you know?”

“Aye. Find anything yet?”

“Not really.”

“Would you like some company?”

“Always.”

Killian threw her a rakish grin and grabbed the nearest book. “So what are we looking for?”

Emma shrugged a bit helplessly. “Um, anything related to dreams. Like magical ones? Either what can cause them or how to get rid of them.”

“You still think there's magic involved?”

“What else is there? I was _fine_ until a couple of days ago.”

“True.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “We'll find the answer, love.”

She smiled at him gratefully. Meeting him had completely turned her safe sheltered life upside down, but Emma didn't regret a single moment. Even the harrowing ones. Even her terrible dreams. Because they reminded her that she had someone. Someone whom she loved and who loved her. Who would do anything for her, who was the father of her child. If she had it to do all over again, she would do the exact same thing.

They worked side by side for a long time, going through books, tossing them aside. Zachariah, the royal librarian, came to check on them periodically, sometimes fetching them more books or deciphering some of the faded ink. Killian was surprisingly good at reading some of the different languages, a trick he said that he'd picked up on some of his travels.

He was reading something in a language Emma had never heard of, reading it aloud. Killian said it helped him focus, reading aloud. She had no idea what he was saying, but she allowed her attention to drift from the monotonous tome she was plowing through. Emma focused on his mouth, the way it moved, the way his lips formed the unfamiliar words. Gods, she could get lost in the sound of his voice. She was so sick of worrying, of being afraid; all she wanted was to get lost in him for a little while.

“Emma?”

“Hmm?”

“Were you even listening to me?”

“Sorry, what?” She looked up at his eyes, a bit sheepish.

“Oh, you _were_ listening,” Killian said softly. “And you didn't even know what I was saying.”

“I just...I just like the sound of your voice.”

“ _That_ has been well established, love.” Emma blushed, thinking about that time he'd made her come with only his voice. “Nothing to be ashamed of, darling.”

“I know.” Emma bit her lip, feeling the air around them change, getting thicker and charged. “Could you read some more?”

“Of course.” He pushed back on his chair and patted his lap. Emma glanced around for a moment to make sure they were alone, then switched seats; Killian's lap was much more comfortable than her hard wooden chair. She laid her head on his shoulder as he picked the book back up, reading softly in the gorgeous unknown language. Emma felt a shiver run down her spine, but it wasn't a shiver of fear. It _had_ been several days since they'd indulged, but perhaps it was time to change that. After all, they'd tried everything else to get her to rest.

Emma moved silently, leaning up to brush a kiss to the underside of his jaw. Killian only faltered for a moment, but managed to keep reading. Emma grew bolder, her hand slipping under his shirt and vest, feeling the soft chest hair. She felt him swallow, his grip on her tightening by a fraction. Emma smiled to herself, adjusting her seat so she could get better access to the exposed skin of his neck. Those open necked shirts were perfect; Emma loved to kiss and nip at the skin there, knowing how it never failed to get him going.

Killian growled low in his throat; Emma could feel the vibrations against her lips. “Emma,” he said warningly.

“Afraid, pirate?” she asked, raising her eyes to his. 

“Of you? Never, lass.” Then he threw the book aside and attacked her mouth with his, kissing her deeply, letting her know just how much she had affected him. “My princess likes to tease. Bad form, love.”

“Who said anything about teasing?” She pulled him back to her lips, nails scratching at the hair at his nape. Killian groaned something about sirens and hauled her up so that she was straddling his hips in the narrow wooden chair. He abandoned her lips, leaving wet sloppy kisses down the column of her throat. Emma threaded her fingers into his hair, holding him in place, her pulse racing under his touch. It was the most alive she'd felt in days and she didn't want it to end.

“Gods, such perfect skin, lass. I could do this forever.” His teeth scraped over a sensitive spot on her collar making her groan, louder than she should have. Emma was past caring, instead she arched into him, eager to feel his lips move down her body.

Killian nipped at the tops of her breasts, hook pulling ever so slightly on the fabric of her bodice. He pulled away abruptly, making Emma squirm impatiently. “Get up, lass.”

“What? Why?”

“Because there's someone coming.”

Emma didn't need to be told twice. She got up and returned to her seat, trying to right her clothing. She was so busy trying to put everything to rights that she missed Killian diving under the table. It wasn't until she felt his hand on her leg that she realized where he was. She couldn't even ask him about it because their visitor was turning the corner. Emma quickly crossed her arms over he chest to attempt to hide her aroused state. But it wasn't easy, given that Killian was pushing her skirt up and kissing her leg. A brief memory of her telling him one of her dirtiest fantasies flashed in her mind and she had to bite back a moan.  _Good Gods._

“How's everything, your highness?” Zachariah asked, stopping in front of her.

“Fine,” Emma replied, surprised at how calm she sounded. Killian nipped at the inside of her thigh approvingly, gently spreading her legs wider under the table.

“Where's the Captain?” the old man asked.

“Oh, um...” She slid forward until she was sitting on the edge of the chair. “He had to...um, take care of something,” she finished lamely. “But he'll be back in a bit.” How was she supposed to come up with coherent thoughts when the scruff of the man in question was rubbing against her thighs?

Zachariah didn't seem to notice anything amiss, however. “I found that book he requested. It's quite old though. Not sure it was quite what he was looking for.”

“A book on what?” she asked, jarred from her lust filled haze momentarily.

“A history of the royal navy,” the librarian said. “Your forefathers had quite the reputation, princess.”

“Oh.” Killian's tongue ran along her slit; Emma gripped the table, hard. “I'll make sure he finds you then.” She opened her legs wider, trying to give him better access. Gods, she felt so wanton like this, knowing Killian was pleasuring her right under someone else's nose.

“Is there anything else I can get for you, highness?”

Emma made a show of looking over the books she already had, but not really seeing them. All she could feel was Killian's talented mouth on her. “No, I think we have everything for now. Thank you, Zachariah. You've been very...helpful.” She had to suck in a shallow breath as Killian grazed her clit with his teeth.

Zachariah looked at her critically. “Are you  _sure_ everything's alright, princess? You look a bit...flushed.”

“No, I'm fine,” Emma said quickly. Too quickly, but there was nothing for it. She needed him gone. Now. “Just a bit warm in here is all.”

“Perhaps I could open the window for you?” 

That would involve him coming around the table, where there would be no hiding what was going on  _under_ it. “No! I can do it. See?” Emma looked up at the window and focused; it snapped open on command.

“Extraordinary,” Zachariah breathed. “Well, I shall leave you to your work then, princess.” He bowed and took his leave. 

As soon as he was out of earshot, Emma let loose the moan she'd been holding back. “Gods, Killian.”

She heard him laugh darkly from under the table. “I'd ask if this turns you on, but I already know,” he said. “You are positively  _dripping_ for me, lass.” 

If Emma expected him to just come back out and finish what they had started, she was sorely mistaken. He seemed determined to get her off like this first. Killian pushed her skirts up higher and dove back in, mouth hot on her core, teasing her entrance before fucking her with his wicked tongue. Emma tried to keep her mewls and moans quiet, but it was almost impossible. Her knuckles were white on the edge of the table, hips rocking on the edge of the chair wantonly fucking his mouth as the pressure built and built, almost to the point of madness. 

“Need to come,” she pleaded, voice barely above a whisper. “Please, Killian.”

He sucked her clit into his mouth, shoving two fingers into her and she exploded, her orgasm ripping through her. Emma bit down on her arm to keep from screaming as wave after wave rocked her body. Killian brought her down from her high, leaving a parting kiss to her over sensitized clit before climbing out from under the table. Emma could still hardly breathe, but she couldn't help but notice the large bulge in Killian's pants as he straightened. She was reaching out before she knew what she was doing, thumb running over the ridge of his cock through the leather.

“Gods, Emma,” Killian breathed, catching her eyes. “Already?”

“Give me a minute?” she said quietly, still rubbing him. Just because she needed a moment to recover didn't mean that he had to suffer. “Just stay right there, okay?”

Killian nodded mutely. Emma smiled faintly, fingers pulling on the laces. In moments she got them loose, her small hand slipping into the open leather. She stroked him gently, eyes on his. His pupils were blown wide, the blue nearly gone in a sea of black. “Emma,” he breathed.

“I know, Killian. I know.” Even before she'd gotten pregnant, once was rarely enough for either of them. So many nights on the _Jolly Roger_ they stayed up all night making love. They were just drawn to each other in a way that was impossible to explain, feeling the most connected and loved when they were together like this. Emma ran her tongue along the underside of him, grinning when she felt him shudder. She took the head into her mouth, sucking lightly, rolling her tongue around him. She never got tired of this, of making him feel as good as he did her. She licked and laved at his cock, head bobbing a little as she regained her breath.

“Emma,” Killian whispered again. “Fuck, you need to stop, lass.”

“Why?” she asked, releasing him.

“Because when I come I want to be inside that sweet cunt, love.”

_Gods._ Would there ever be a time when all those filthy things he said to her  _didn't_ make her burn for him? She fervently hoped not. Killian grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him, crashing his lips over hers in a desperately sloppy kiss. She could still taste herself on his lips and it just made her want him all over again. Killian pulled her chair away with his hook, the wood scraping ominously. The next thing she knew, Killian had her pressed up against the wall, trapping her between it and his body.

This time he  _did_ yank on her bodice, exposing her breasts to the cooled air. Contrary to what she had told Zachariah earlier, it  _wasn't_ hot, but the now open window had dropped the temperature a bit. Emma hadn't even noticed, not until her tender flesh was exposed. The nipples hardened even further, becoming sharp points that ached for Killian's touch. She moaned as he flicked his warm tongue over her needy flesh, back arching. 

“Quiet,” he reminded her softly.

“Gods, Killian. _More.”_

He chuckled, returning to his task, nipping and sucking until there was an angry red mark, leaving her breast tender to the touch. Killian gave its twin the same treatment, until Emma was a writhing needy mess, biting her lip viciously to stop from begging. He released her with a wet plop, shucking off his vest. “Skirts. Now.” He looked as far gone as she was, desperate to be inside her at last.

Emma pulled her skirts up, as Killian shoved his leather pants down just enough. His hooked arm slipped behind her back and his right under her thigh. “Up.” Emma wrapped her arm around his shoulders as they hauled her up, legs securely around his waist. The books behind her rattled on their shelves as her back hit, but it didn't matter. Emma could feel him, hot and thick and heavy between her legs, just rubbing over her sodden flesh. “So wet, Emma,” Killian groaned, still teasing her. “So hot and needy for me. You like this, don't you? Getting fucked where anyone could find us.” He kissed her hard, muffling her cry as he took her, burying his cock deep inside her. “Fuck.”

“Gods, yes,” Emma breathed, tightening her legs around him. “Fuck me, Killian.” The threat of getting caught, the thrill of it, was making her crazy with lust and need. Who knew she'd had such wickedness in her? But gods, did she crave it. Crave _him._

He pulled almost all the way out before rocking back, hitting her hard and deep. Emma buried her head in his neck so as to not cry out. They didn't have long or they  _would_ actually get caught. Killian seemed to read her thoughts, fucking her with abandon, rattling more books, more shelves. She sucked on his collar, almost breaking the skin, trying to stifle her whimpers. She could feel herself getting wetter, letting him slip even faster in and out of her, filling her completely.

“So fucking good, lass. Gods, I love fucking you.” He changed the angle of his thrusts, seeking out the place that would send her over the edge. Emma dug her nails painfully into his biceps as she clung to him, his shirt the only thing that prevented her from breaking the skin. She let out a broken sob when he hit her just right; Killian captured her lips with his, swallowing her cries. Her whole body trembled and shuddered violently as her second orgasm overtook her. Books fell to the floor as they were rattled off their shelves, but Emma hardly noticed. It felt like her whole body was coming apart at the seams, bliss filling every pore. 

Killian grunted loudly as he rocked forward one final time, his body shaking with the force of his climax. They leaned heavily against the bookshelf, exhausted. It was just beginning to be uncomfortable, when Killian shuffled them back to the chair. He kissed her temple as he held her close to him, their thudding heartbeats the only sound.

“I love you, Emma,” Killian whispered finally, breaking the silence. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Killian.”

“But you are a naughty dirty princess, love.”

“You love that too.”

“Too right, lass.” He brushed a chaste kiss to her lips. “We should get you back to our room. Maybe take a bath?”

“Mmm, that sounds good.” She was so sated and exhausted, perhaps she could finally get some solid sleep.

* * *

“Tink!” Emma cried, running up to her friend. “Where have you been?”

“I'm so sorry, Emma,” the fairy said, hugging Emma tightly. “Every time I tried to get away Blue came up with some other task.”

“Did she tell you that I needed to talk to you?”

“Yes, but she said that what she needed was more important. I tried arguing with her. She...she threatened to take my wings.”

“She _what_?” Emma cried, horrified. “Can she even do that?”

“There are tales of fairies who've lost their wings,” Tink said sadly. “It's awful apparently.”

“I'll talk to her,” Emma said firmly. “She has no right to do that to you.”

“No one has a right to do what, love?” Killian had hung back for a minute, to allow the women to have their moment.

“Blue,” Emma said shortly. “She threatened Tink's wings!”

“There is something wrong with that blasted fairy,” Killian agreed. “What makes her so high and mighty anyway?”

“She defeated the Black Fairy,” Tinkerbell said quietly. “It's legend. The fairies have followed her ever since.”

“We'll get Blue sorted out,” Emma promised Tink. “Maybe I can convince her to let you stay here? Since you're supposed to be my magical mentor and everything.”

“Good luck,” Tink said bitterly. “Sometimes I think she has it out for me personally. But enough about that. You said you needed to see me? What's happened?”

As quickly as she could, Emma explained about her nightmares. She got worried when Tinkerbell seemed to pale. “So I need to know. Are these prophetic dreams? How can you tell? We tried to do some research, but didn't find anything,” she finished.

“Well, as far as _I_ know there's no way to distinguish between a real dream and prophetic dream,” Tink said cautiously. “Not until the dream comes to pass anyway.”

Emma shook her head. “No. I can't—I  _won't_ let these dreams come to pass.” She looked at Killian, sudden tears swimming in her eyes. “I can't lose you,” she said, tears spilling onto her cheeks. “I can't lose either of you.”

“Oh love,” Killian murmured. He gathered her into his embrace, gently cradling her head. “Shh. It'll be alright, my love. I promise.”

“We'll figure this out,” Tinkerbell agreed. “The suddenness makes me think they're not prophetic though.”

“What do you mean?” Emma said, raising her head. She was embarrassed that she'd broken down like that. She would blame it on her pregnancy if anyone asked.

“Well, you said they were almost always the same? Or at least similar?”

“Yeah,” Emma said slowly. “Killian always dies or _I_ die, leaving him and Liam alone.” Killian hugged her into his side again, offering his silent comfort.

“Dreams are hardly ever that exact, or that regular. Have you... _gotten_ anything lately? Like flowers or a gift or something?”

“Not that I can think of,” Emma said, frustrated. “But we haven't gone through the wedding gifts yet.”

“If you haven't come into contact with them, then I doubt it's them. Maybe we should look in your rooms? See if anything's amiss?”

“Do you think someone's done this to Emma on _purpose?”_ Killian asked, looking deeply affronted.

Tink shrugged. “Perhaps. We won't know until we look. If we don't find anything, then we'll have to think of some other cause.”

Together, the three of them trooped off to Emma and Killian's suite. Other than the servants, Tinkerbell was the first person to visit them there; most of the castle's inhabitants choosing to give the couple their space. But Tinkerbell was their friend. And perhaps the only person who could help them figure out why Emma had been having such awful dreams.

“Okay, now look. _Really_ look. Is there anything here that wasn't here a few days ago?”

Emma and Killian looked high and low. Tinkerbell waited patiently while they searched their bedroom. Emma got more frustrated by the minute. Everything looked the same to her. When they emerged, Tinkerbell was standing next to the vase of buttercups that sat on the mantle. They were Emma's favorite flower.

“Emma, are these buttercups?”

“Yeah. They get refreshed every few days. I like them.”

“Did you know buttercups are poisonous?”

“Only to livestock,” Killian argued. “Last time I checked Emma wasn't a sodding cow.”

“Hey!”

Killian looked apologetic. “Sorry, love. You know what I meant.” He kissed her hair.

“All the same...” Tinkerbell said slowly. She waved her hand over the arrangement. To Emma's shock the flowers turned purple and changed shape. 

“What is _that_?”

“The Morpheus plant,” Tinkerbell said seriously. “Morpheus is the god of dreams. Someone who knows how can use this plant to control someone's dreams.”

“Rumplestiltskin,” Killian muttered. “He's done this to you, Emma.”

“How do you know?” Tink asked.

“He's the only one who wants to get at Emma,” Killian said flatly. “Who else would it be?”

“But how?” Emma asked. “He can't get in. Blue made sure of that.”

Tink nodded. “I was there. I  _saw_ her. No one should be able to get into this castle who's not supposed to be.”

“I don't ruddy well know _how_ and I don't care. That sodding imp has hurt you for the last time, love.”

“He must have someone on the inside,” Emma said, even the thought made her sick. “Someone to plant the...well, the plant.”

“Are you saying what I think you're saying, Emma?”

She nodded. “There's a traitor in our midst.”


	18. Chapter 18

“I don't believe it.”

Killian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to reign in his temper. Arguing with his new mother in law wasn't going to help anything. Having been betrayed by someone he thought he could trust...he understood exactly how Snow felt. It wasn't an easy thing to accept. Killian, however, had had the luxury—if one could call it that—of seeing the betrayal first hand. The pure fury he'd known when he found Randle with Emma was instantaneous. And Killian had dealt with it promptly and decisively, with no regrets.

Snow White was an infinitely better person than he was.

“How else do you explain this?” Emma said, gesturing toward the now infamous Morpheus plant. It sat in the middle of the low table, looking sinister. Or at least that's how Killian perceived it. Anything that brought harm to his princess was the enemy.

“Is Tinkerbell sure she did the spell right?” Snow said helplessly.

“Snow,” David said gently.

The petite queen rounded on her husband. “What, Charming? Do you find it so easy to believe that someone we trust would betray our daughter in such a manner?”

“This is Rumplestiltskin, Snow. Anything is possible.”

“I don't believe that.”

“The Dark One was smart,” Killian said at last. He stared right at Snow as he spoke. “He waited until the castle was bustling with activity, so many new faces coming and going. With all the preparations for the wedding, no one would notice one person acting a bit odd, poking their head where it didn't belong.”

“You seem...familiar with the tactic,” David said, his voice free from judgment, much to Killian's surprise.

Killian nodded. “How do you think I wound up in your dungeon, mate?”

Emma looked at him, stunned. He'd never told her just how her family had managed to capture him. It hadn't been his intention—he'd gotten distracted, sloppy—but now he was infinitely glad that he had. It had brought him Emma and the son that she carried, a _home_.

David cleared his throat. “Are you saying that the Dark One is  _here_ ?”

“No. The fairies have this place too well guarded. More likely he made a deal with someone to do his dirty work for him.”

“But _why_?” Snow asked plaintively. “What does he want?”

“Me,” Emma said. Her voice sounded dull, flat. Killian took her hand in his, breathing a sigh of relief when she didn't pull away. “Whatever he wants has to do with me. The Morpheus plant didn't affect Killian's dreams.”

“It only started after the ball, so whoever is responsible only arrived _after_ ,” Killian said firmly.

“Or didn't get his orders until after,” David added.

“True,” Killian agreed.

“But that could be anyone!” Snow cried.

“Well, then we'll just have to check everyone,” Killian shot back heatedly.

“That could take days,” Emma pointed out. “Should we postpone the wedding?”

“No,” Killian said. “We need to go about everything as before. If we let them know we're onto them, then we could lose any chance of catching them.”

“Everything?” David asked, a brow raised in question. Killian knew exactly what the King was thinking of. Their friendly duel was in less than three days.

“Aye, mate,” Killian said with a curt nod. “Everything.”

“I just can't believe anyone in this castle would do such a thing. I was raised here,” Snow said quietly. “Some of the staff have worked for our family for generations. Why would anyone do this?”

“Sometimes betrayal has no rhyme or reason, your highness,” Killian said quietly. He remembered clearly the horrible things Randle had said before Killian had ended his miserable life. “It just _is_.”

 

* * *

 

“Who do you think it is?” Emma asked as they climbed into bed that night.

“I don't know, love.” Their first day's search had come up empty, not that Killian expected it to be easy. The Dark One had gone to a lot of trouble to infiltrate the castle; it was highly unlikely their traitor would reveal himself by accident.

“Mother's right though,” Emma said thoughtfully, as she snuggled into his side. “I can't imagine anyone who works here being responsible.”

“An expert on servants now, lass?”

“Not until recently, no.”

Killian kissed the top of her head. Emma had never been what he would have considered a spoiled princess. His love was well able to take care of herself. But she  _was_ royal. Until she'd come aboard the  _Jolly Roger_ , she hadn't known real hardship and toil. But Emma had acquitted herself exceedingly well; Killian was proud of her. Emma could do anything she set her mind to.

“I miss her too, love,” he said softy, his left arm curling around her waist. He wished he had his hand to rest on her stomach, feel a bit closer to their son growing inside her.

“How did you know I was talking about the _Jolly_?”

“Because you are an open book, darling. You miss the rolling waves of the sea just as much as me.” Perhaps more, he mused. The sea had given Emma her freedom. And it was where they'd fallen in love.

“I wish we'd had more time,” Emma replied sadly. “I didn't expect this so soon.”

“Were you always planning on tying me down with a lad or lass, princess?” Killian teased, keeping his tone light. He didn't want her thinking for even a moment that he regretted what they had.

“It's not like we were doing anything to prevent it.”

“It's not my fault I happen to have the most gorgeous woman in all the realms in my bed.”

Killian could feel her face heat up. “I think I started it by inviting the most handsome man I'd ever seen into _my_ bed to ravish me,” she replied, looking up at him with those luminous green eyes. He could spend hours just staring into them, completely captivated by her.

Slowly, Killian dragged his index finger along her cheekbone. “Sometimes I still can't believe that actually happened. I thought I was dreaming.”

“Really?”

The way she said it made his heart ache. Even now, she somehow still couldn't quite understand just what she meant to him, how she'd saved him from himself. “Emma, you are without a doubt the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. I was broken, an empty shell. You brought me back to life. I'll never be able to repay you for that.”

Emma's lip trembled, tears swimming in the low candlelight. Killian brought her lips to his in a sweet life affirming kiss. He loved her more than anything in the world. More than the sea. More than his ship. More than himself. She was rising eastern sun after so many years of night. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her, for the family they would have together.

“I love you, Killian,” Emma said softly, earnestly, when she pulled back. “More than I can say.”

“And I you, my love. Sleep now. I'm right here.” The Morpheus plant was gone; he hoped it would be enough to give her a good night's rest, unplagued by nightmares. He settled her back against his chest, listening carefully until she fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

She was a vision, radiant in the soft glow of the morning sun. Her golden hair hanging down her back, over the tops of her breasts. The hard nipples peaking out from between the strands as she rode him into oblivion.

Killian ran his hand up over her thigh, trying to coax her down to him so he could kiss her. But Emma just shook her head, bringing a finger down to his lips. He sucked it into his mouth, teeth scraping over the skin, a growl low in his throat. He bucked his hips, smirking with satisfaction as Emma's moan echoed in their chamber.

The sound jolted Killian awake; the moan suddenly very, very real. But it wasn't Emma's. It was his.

His body was reacting without his permission, need curling in his stomach. Emma's warm wet mouth was wrapped firmly around his cock, sucking on it like it was a particularly tasty treat. Killian groaned at the sight, still blinking away the remnants of sleep. “Fuck,” he breathed, trying vainly to keep his hips still. His back bowed up from the mattress, out of his control.

Emma licked at his engorged flesh, her tongue doing absolutely wicked things to him. “Good morning, Captain,” she said in a low seductive voice, as if he didn't already burn for her.

“It seems to be a _very_ good morning, my love,” Killian agreed, still breathless, watching as her delicate hand stroked him.

“Shall I make it better?” she asked, tongue darting out to lick his weeping slit.

He was helpless to do anything but agree. “Please,” he said, rolling his hips. “Gods, I need you.”

Emma grinned at him, giving him one last pump with her hand before taking him back into her mouth. Killian's moan echoed in the large room, her sweet mouth exactly what he needed. His hand went to her hair, pulling on the sun kissed strands. Emma moaned around him at the contact, making him hiss in pleasure as the vibrations went straight through him. Eager to replicate the feeling he did it again, tugging a little harder. Emma's eyes locked with his, her pupils almost black and filled with lust. She very deliberately hummed around him, right at the sensitive head, almost making him come on the spot.

“Minx,” he gasped, hips rocking up of their own volition. She didn't protest his movement, moving with him, letting him fuck her mouth. She was so unbelievably perfect for him, giving as good as she got, needing this just as much as he. “Fuck, such a sweet mouth.” He moved a little faster, hips rising off the bed, taking all she had to give. When he hit the back of her throat, he cursed loudly. Emma didn't miss a beat, relaxing her throat to take him as deep as she could. Seeing himself disappear past those pink lips, throat swallowing around him...it was too much. He came with a harsh cry, her name spilling from his lips over and over.

Killian slumped back against the mattress, drenched in sweat. He barely noticed when she released him, licking her lips with that devious tongue of hers. “Better?” she asked, resting her chin on his hipbone.

“Bloody hell, woman,” he panted.

“What? Was that not good?”

Killian looked at her incredulously, still breathing hard. “It was bloody brilliant and you know it.”

“Then what?”

“Now it's gonna take longer before I can fuck you properly, that's what.”

Emma smirked. “I'm sure you can think of something to occupy you in the meantime.” His stamina had been put to the test since meeting her, but he relished the challenge. Sex had just been an itch that he scratched when the need arose. Now it was like a drug or the air he needed to breathe. And it was all because of  _her._

Killian growled and sprung, tackling Emma to the bed. She was wearing one of his shirts, the black material a perfect contrast to her pale skin. He took in the sight of her, hair mussed from sleep and his hand, lips swollen and pouting, eyes positively burning for him. “You are breathtaking,” he murmured before capturing her lips in a soul searing kiss.

In the midst of all the uncertainty, they needed this. They needed to feel the solidness of each other, feel the love and desire and adoration that they'd found together. To be _whole._ No matter what was going on, he would always make time for her, for this most basic and fundamental of connections. He loved her too much to deny her anything.

Emma tangled her fingers in his hair, kissing him back passionately. She was so brilliant, fiery, full of life. She always had been, calling out to him from the moment they met. To touch her was the closest Killian would ever come to touching heaven.

“Touch me,” she pleaded, finally coming up for air. It was as if she were reading his mind. “Gods, Killian, I need you to touch me.”

He obeyed her eagerly, sliding his hand under the borrowed shirt, skimming over her rounded stomach, pushing the fabric up. Once her breasts were exposed, he kneaded one in his hand, testing the weight of it, thumbing the hardened peak. He knew her body so well by now, that he knew exactly how to drive her insane with want. He took full advantage of her heightened sensitivity, rolling the nipple between his thumb ad index finger, twisting gently.

Emma mewled, writhing under him. “Is that what you wanted, darling?” Killian asked, breath ghosting over her other breast. “Is this what you thought about when you woke up?”

“Killian...oh gods.”

He released her long enough to pull the shirt from her body, leaving her gloriously naked before him. He knew that she fretted about how she would look to him, but she was every bit as desirable now as she was the night she invited him into her bed. Killian latched onto her nipple, sucking and biting. Emma gasped and arched, fingers clawing at the sheets. Killian ghosted his hand over her hip toward the scorching heat between her legs.

“Emma, you are fucking _soaked_ ,” he said, fingers slipping easily through her damp folds. “You liked sucking me off, didn't you?” When she didn't respond, he pinched her clit sharply. “ _Didn't you?”_

“Yes!” She tried to grind her hips into his touch, desperate and wanton. “Killian, _please_.”

“You should be careful what you wish for, love,” he said cryptically. He gave her breast one final lick before sliding down between her thighs. He had the perfect punishment for her finishing him off earlier. By the time he was ready to have her, he wanted her to be an aching mess, begging for relief.

“I love how wet you get for me, love,” he said, his warm breath teasing the slick skin. “Always so wet, Emma.” He licked a stripe through her slit, his left arm thrown across her stomach to hold her down. It was good that he had, even that small exploratory touch had her mewling with pleasure. She was always responsive to him, but even more so now. Her pregnancy had heightened everything about her body and Killian relished every moment. All this was for him and would only ever be for him. He was the only one who got to have her; he'd be a fool to waste the amazing gift that was Emma.

“Killian...”

He chuckled at her whiny tone, returning to his task. He took his time, in no rush, licking and nibbling on her aching flesh. He was addicted to her taste, could feast on nothing but her for days. He teased her clit, scraping his teeth over the hardened nub, smirking at Emma's gasp of pleasure.

“Again,” she pleaded, trying to thrust her hips up. “Gods, _again.”_

He did as she asked, working her until he felt her body start to shake with impending release. Then he pulled away before she could fall over the edge, grinning lasciviously at her cry of protest.

“What the hell?” He'd only ever denied her once before; she'd been glorious then too, skin wet and glistening as she pleaded with him to let her come. Emma thrust her hips against the air, but his arm held her back before she could get very far.

“You only get to come when I say so, princess,” he said, ignoring her glare.

“Why?”

“I told you to be careful what you wished for,” he reminded her. She'd stopped shaking, her breathing becoming more regular; she was coming down from her near high. Casually, Killian trailed his hand over her inner thighs, pushing them wider, getting closer to where she was spread for him, pink and wet.

“Is that any way to treat your pregnant wife?” The question had no ire; if anything, his princess sounded intrigued.

“It is when she deserves to be punished,” he said, index finger rubbing the rim of her entrance. “As lovely as your mouth is, we both know what you really crave, darling.” He slipped his finger into her, mimicking the slide of his cock inside her. Slowly he added a second and third fingers, stretching her, her arousal coating his rings. He watched her face as he fucked her with his fingers, taking in every sigh, every moan. Watching her as he pleasured her was one of his favorite past times.

Killian brought her to the brink a second time, his fingers leaving her abruptly, leaving her wanting and gasping. “Fuck!” she yelled, voice filled with irritated lust.

“Soon, my love,” he assured her, kissing her thigh. “I promise.” He could feel the stirrings of his own arousal; he was half hard, hips rocking ever so slightly against the sheets. He'd make all this torment up to her, and then some. Killian licked his fingers clean, giving Emma a brief respite, ignoring her low curses. “Tell me what you want, Emma.”

“So you can tease me again?”

“Perhaps,” Killian replied. “I didn't say I was finished with you.”

“ _Pirate,”_ she spat, as if it were meant to be an insult. But they both knew that if Emma truly wanted to forgo their impromptu game, she could.

“Guilty. I do love hearing you beg, princess.”

“I won't.”

“Oh, I rather think you will.” He lowered his head once more, attacking her swollen flesh with his mouth, tongue thrusting inside her eagerly. Her release built faster now, having already been denied twice. Soon she was writhing against him, fingers threaded through his hair in a death grip. She bucked against his mouth, perilously close to losing her precious control. The sight and sound of his Emma completely needy and wanton and desperate for him made him ache for her. His cock sprang to life, long and thick, eager to be buried inside her wet heat.

Emma let out a choked sob, her body on the brink of release. “Please let me come,” she begged.

He was about to, when he caught a glimpse of them in the mirror. Emma's whole body was flushed, legs spread, head thrashing, fingers twisted both in the sheet and his hair. She was beautiful, a goddess spread out before him. And he was seized with a desire for her to see what he saw.

Emma screamed in frustration when Killian pulled away  _again_ , her body taut and aching from a third near orgasm. “Shhh, love,” he soothed, scooting up to kiss her sweat covered brow. “I've got you.” Gently, mindful of her highly aroused state, he pulled her up, turning her to face the mirror. He remembered the last time they did something like this, the memory seared into his brain. “Look how gorgeous you are, darling.”

His hands played over her skin as she looked, gnawing her lip between her teeth. Her breathing hitched as he toyed with her breasts again, the nipples almost painful under his touch. He kissed her ear, her temple, her neck, lips brushing softly, his own desire thrumming though his veins. “I can never get enough of you, love,” he whispered, swinging his legs over the end of the bed, pulling her into his lap. “I always want to be with you like this.”

“Killian,” she pleaded, her body _quivering_ with the force of her need for him. “I need you inside me. Please.”

Killian moved her so she was facing the mirror, her back to his chest. “Spread your legs over mine, Emma,” he ordered, reaching down to line himself up with her entrance. Emma caught on quickly, rising up just enough to slide onto him. She was so aroused, so wet and aching, that she came on the spot, walls gripping him tight as she cried out in surprise. “Fuck,” Killian grunted, trying to keep still, lest this be over before it had begun. He wanted to give her a ride she wouldn't soon forget.

“Gods,” Emma gasped, her eyes locking with his in the mirror. “Again.”

“As you wish.” He rocked his hips upward, taking her with shallow thrusts. There wasn't much leverage from this position, but the sight of her was almost enough. His Emma spread in his lap, his cock deep inside her, her little moans of pleasure filling his ears. It was probably the most erotic thing Killian had ever seen. “Look at us, Emma.”

She did as he bid, watching them hungrily in the mirror. He peppered her skin with kisses, hand kneading her breast. He groaned loudly as Emma's hand drifted down her stomach to where they were joined so intimately. He bit his lip as her fingers brushed the base of his cock, so hard he nearly drew blood. “Bloody minx,” he growled. He nipped sharply at her shoulder, thrusting up as hard as he could. “Make yourself come for me, Emma. I want to see you fall apart like this.”

Emma nodded furiously, not trusting herself to speak. Her fingers flew to her clit, rubbing it in fast hard circles as Killian maintained his shallow thrusts. It was just enough friction to take the edge off his need. He would fuck her properly soon enough. Emma started to shake, her body so over stimulated already. He held her tight as her second orgasm washed over her, his name echoing in the room.

“So fucking gorgeous,” Killian groaned, adoring the sight of his lover awash in ecstasy.

Emma had barely come down when Killian pulled her off his lap; both of them groaning at the loss. He urged her forward, bent at the waist, hands on the mirror. “That's it, princess. Spread your legs for me.”

“Just fuck me,” she said hoarsely, rocking her hips back. “I won't break.”

Killian tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her head back toward him. “Gods, I love you.” He did as she asked, thrusting home hard. He knew she loved him like this, rough and needy, even when he wished he could be more gentle with her. And he was, sometimes. But most of the time, he was an utter slave to her, the desire to possess her, mark her as his, was too much for his feeble will. Emma loved the pirate; she never shied away from what he was or what he needed. He couldn't tell her what that meant to him.

“Killian!” she sobbed. “Oh gods...”

“Let go, love,” he breathed, hand tightening on her hip. “Squeeze me one last time.”

Emma whimpered as a third orgasm gripped her, her knees shaking. Killian grunted, his hips stuttering as his release tore through him, triggered by hers. It was all he could do to keep them upright, both of them completely spent.

Somehow, they managed to get back to the bed, falling unceremoniously onto it in a heap of arms and legs. Emma was weak as a kitten, curling into a ball, shaking. She flinched when Killian touched her shoulder.

“I didn't hurt you?” he asked, worried. He'd always cursed himself when she got like this, so sensitive that she couldn't be touched.

“No, I'm fine,” she whispered, rolling over to face him. “Just a little sensitive. Sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my love. I did this to you.”

“Hey, I loved every minute. Even when I was cursing your name.”

“You are a sight behold, Emma. A goddess in my bed.”

“ _Our_ bed,” she corrected. Her body slowly became still, the little shivers subsiding. “And _I'm_ the one who woke you up, remember?”

“Ah, but it was a glorious way to wake up.” Gently, he brushed a lock of hair away from her face. This time she didn't flinch. “You're feeling better, I presume?”

“Yeah. I actually slept.”

“That's very good news. You'll need your beauty sleep for the wedding.”

“Hey!” But she was grinning at him. Killian knew his princess. She had just the right amount of vanity.

“Personally, I'm eager to get the sodding thing over with so we can go on our honeymoon.” It was so easy to forget in these moments, flush with post coital bliss, that there was a demon trying to destroy their lives.

“We already had one,” Emma pointed out.

“Aye, locked away in our cabin for a week. I was thinking something a bit more...exotic this time.”

“I think what we _did_ in the cabin was pretty exotic,” Emma reminded him, resting her hand over his.

“Love, every day with you is exotic.” They'd gotten very...creative in their time together.

Emma's face grew serious. “I feel terrible for even thinking about this, but what do you think we should do? Mother said that we could spend some time at the summer palace after the wedding, but is that even possible? Especially now.” Now with an unknown threat in their midst.

“We'll figure something out, Emma. I like your parents, but I don't particularly fancy spending our first few weeks of _re_ married life with them. We'll just have to find out who the Dark One's accomplice is before the wedding.” Easier said than done. He raised her chin, forcing her to look at him. “And you're not terrible.”

“But it's so selfish.”

“Sweetheart, you're married to a pirate. Selfish is my middle name.”

“No, it's not.” Emma snuggled into his side, her head resting over his heart. “If you were truly selfish, you wouldn't be here right now.”

“Then perhaps I'm only selfish with you.” She was all he had, aside from his ship. And even that paled in comparison to Emma and their son. He'd give it up in a heartbeat if she asked him to.

“Perhaps I like you being selfish with me.”

“Then I shall endeavor to continue, lass.” No one would ever take her away from him.

After their talk, Killian decided to expedite matters. With the wedding a week away, it was imperative they find whoever was responsible for Emma's nightmares. He didn't want this hanging over them any longer than was absolutely necessary. Let Snow and David continue their investigation in any way they wished, Killian had other plans. A few words dropped here and there to the right people should do the trick. If there was one thing they could count on, it was the power of salacious gossip. It had taken some convincing—Killian was convinced the man still didn't like him—but he'd enlisted the help of Grumpy and the other dwarves in his plan. They were utterly devoted to Emma's family; if there was anyone he could trust with his plan it was them. Smee was hard at work as well, dropping hints in the village, all in an effort to flush out whoever was behind this, force their hand, get them to make a mistake. The one thing he didn't do was tell Emma. She was upset enough as it was; he could handle this.

All he could do now was wait and see if their rat took the bait.

* * *

“I almost thought you weren't coming, mate,” Killian drawled, leaning against the fence at the entrance to the practice yard.

“And miss out on a chance to defeat the infamous Captain Hook?” David shot back. “You don't know me very well, pirate.”

“Now I see where Emma's competitive streak comes from, your highness.”

“That's not all she got from me, you know.”

“Aye. She's quite the swordswoman, thanks to you.” Killian moved out the middle of straw covered practice yard, waiting for David.

“Snow tried to teach her to shoot, but she never was very good at it. I merely helped her improve her strengths.” David pulled out his broadsword; it was longer and heavier than Killian's cutlass, but he wasn't worried. He faced its like before and he was still around to tell the tale.

“Still, not every King would encourage such a thing in their daughters.”

David shrugged. “The world was still dangerous when Emma was young, with the Evil Queen out there. Once Regina was defeated though...it was a way to spend time with my little girl. You'll understand that soon enough, I think, Captain.”

Killian pictured himself at the helm of the _Jolly Roger_ , little Liam beside him, his tiny hands on the massive wheel. “Aye, I'm sure I will. Shall we?” The sun was high in the sky; it was noon or just after. It was probably a good idea to get this over with before either of them were missed.

David nodded. “Two things. One, we fight only to disarm. The first to be disarmed loses. Second, you can't use that.” He pointed at Killian's hook.

“Fair enough. We need you in one piece to walk Emma down the aisle after all.”

David smile grimly. “Well, if I _killed_ you, Emma would probably never speak to me again.”

“And your grandson would grow up fatherless.”

“True. So I guess I'll spare you, pirate.”

“Confident. I like that, mate.” And with no other warning—he _was_ a pirate, after all—Killian raised his cutlass and lunged at David. The King parried his blow with ease, the clang of their swords ringing out in quiet yard. Killian grinned and sprang back, looking for another opening. David wasn't as patient, charging Killian, sword raised high. Killian ducked and whirled around, catching David's sword with his hook.

“That's cheating,” David said through gritted teeth.

“You only said that I couldn't _attack_ you with it, highness. You never anything about defending myself with it,” Killian countered, shoving the King back with all his strength.

David attacked again, brow furrowed in concentration. Killian parried and thrust, narrowly missing David's chest. He didn't actually want to _hurt_ his father in law, but in the rush of combat it was hard to remember. Back and forth they went, kicking up straw and dust, sweat covering their brows. Killian was impressed; even at the King's age, he was a fine swordsman. His reputation was well earned. They were even beginning to draw a crowd, stable boys and armor's apprentices watching avidly as the King and the pirate dueled.

Both men were breathing hard; Killian had a bloody scratch on his bicep. David's leather trousers were stained with red. Nothing too deep, just scratches. But neither man was willing to give up. Swords clashed and clanged, grunts covered by the murmuring of the crowd. David, however, was slowing. He was a good twenty years older than Killian; he couldn't keep up the pace forever. His attacks were getting sloppier, less controlled. Killian pressed his advantage, soon having the King completely on the defensive. His instincts took over, honed by long years of fighting for his life. He parried David's thrust—which narrowly missed Killian's exposed thigh—twisting the King's wrist with all his might. The sword came loose and fell to the ground with a clatter. David collapsed to one knee, exhausted, but his head was still raised defiantly.

Killian didn't bask in the cheers that came up from the assembled crowd of boys and young men. He sheathed his cutlass, and held out his hand to the King. David hesitated for only a moment, but took it, allowing Killian to pull him up.

“Well done, mate,” Killian said, nodding respectfully.

“I lost.”

“Aye, but you were a very worthy opponent. Emma learned from the best.”

That seemed to mollify the King's bruised pride. “She did, didn't she?”

“You nearly had me a couple of times, mate. Not many can say that.” It wasn't strictly true, Killian was hampered by the lack of his hook, but he wasn't going to tell the King that. David was a proud man, who'd fought in his fair share of battles, a white lie wouldn't hurt. Killian bent down and picked up David's lost sword. “If you ever want a rematch...”

“We'll see about that, pirate.” David smiled faintly, sheathing the sword. “For now, we should get cleaned up before Emma and Snow find us.” To Killian's surprise, David clapped him on the back. “Then we'll stop by the tavern for a drink!”

Neither of them noticed the masked knight who stood on the edge of the cheering crowd, watching Killian with narrowed eyes.

* * *

“ _Where is my ship?”_

Killian came down to the docks to confer with Mr. Smee. When he got there, however, the  _Jolly Roger_ was nowhere to be seen. She had just been there that morning, as he stared out their bedroom window. Where the bloody hell could she have gone?

“Right here, Killian.” Emma. But where? He looked around, gasping in surprise when the air in front of him shimmered. Emma stepped out of seeming nothingness and stood in front of him. She was grinning proudly, clearly pleased about _something._

“Emma...what have you done?”

Her face fell a bit at his tone. “Um, I cloaked the  _Jolly Roger._ With magic.”

“Why?”

“I thought it might be a solution to our honeymoon problem.” She fidgeted nervously, his reaction obviously not what she had been expecting.

“Sorry, love, it's just...well, I'm a bit thrown.” He ran his hand through his hair. The _Jolly_ was right in front of him, only he couldn't see her. He reached out where Emma had come from; sure enough, his hand disappeared. His arm was gone all the way to the shoulder before his fingers brushed the solid wood of the _Jolly_ 's hull. “Oh, _there_ you are,” he breathed, letting out a sigh of relief.

“See? Right where she's always been.”

Killian pulled back his hand. “So it would seem. This is brilliant, love.” He smiled back at her, thrilled at her achievement, now that he understood it. “Can we go on board?”

“Of course.” Emma took his hand, gesturing for him to follow her. He did, stepping where she stepped, a shiver racing down his spine when they passed through the barrier. The _Jolly Roger_ loomed in front of them, as solid as always, the deck firm under his feet. He looked back toward the castle, knowing no one could see them. It was a strange sensation.

“You did all this?” he asked in an awed voice.

“It took a couple tries, but yeah. With the ship cloaked, we can go anywhere, Killian. No one would ever know. It was Tinkerbell's idea.”

“Was it now?” He pulled Emma close to him, kissing the top of her head. “We'll have to thank her.”

“But just think about it. Everyone's expecting us to go the summer palace. Overland. What if we slipped out on the _Jolly_ instead? Then we could go wherever we wanted.”

It sounded like heaven, the two of them out on the open sea again. But there was one complication. “What about the little one, love? Shouldn't we stay close so you can be looked after?”

“I just saw the midwife again today, Killian. She says I'm perfectly healthy. A few weeks away shouldn't change that. We can be back long before I give birth.” She looked up at him with those jade eyes. “Please, Killian. I want this.”

Killian sighed, brushing some hair back from her face. “I'm never going to be able to say no to you, am I?”

“Probably not.”

He tried to grumble, to put up some kind of argument, but he didn't have it in him. He missed being at sea so much. And it might actually be safer, at least until the traitor was caught. “Very well, my love. A honeymoon at sea it is.”

* * *

It was a delicate business, loading the  _Jolly Roger_ for a journey that no one was to know about. Fresh food stuffs were disguised as trash and smuggled on board by his skeleton crew. When it came to actually sailing, it wouldn't matter. The  _Jolly_ was made of enchanted wood and needed very little in the way of an actual crew. She could almost sail herself. But loading was another matter. It was a tedious task, done in stages. Killian supervised whenever he could, usually late at night, when most of the castle was asleep.

He was on his way back from dock, his footfalls echoing in the silent castle. He had no candle, not wanting to draw any attention to himself. He knew the way back to their suite well enough by now that he didn't need one anyway. Unfortunately, he was so distracted—thinking about where he wanted to take Emma, mentally calculating how long it would take to get there—that when he looked up, he realized he'd gotten turned around.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, spinning on his heel and marching off in the right direction. All he wanted was to curl up with Emma in their warm bed and get some sleep. 

“You're late, Captain.”

Killian froze, his body instantly on alert.“Sorry to disappoint...” He couldn't see who it was; he didn't recognize the voice and their face was hidden in the shadows.

“It's doesn't matter,” the voice said. “This will be over soon.”

“Will it? And just what would that be?” His hand twitched; he wished he had his sword, but it was down in the armory. In his experience, anyone accosting you in the middle of the night meant to do you harm.

“You're a pirate. What do you think?” The faint starlight glinted on something...silver? It was hard to tell, but he was certain his companion was armed. 

“Better men than you have tried.”

“We'll see about that. Just know it's nothing personal, Captain. I have to protect her. I swore an oath.”

Killian's brow furrowed. Who the bloody hell was this person? And who were they protecting that required Killian's life? “It was you. You put the Morpheus plant in our room.”

“I'm not supposed to harm the princess,” the mysterious voice said. “But the Dark One didn't say anything about you.”

“Does your oath mention anything about attacking an unarmed man?” Killian asked before lunging at the traitor. He tackled them to the hard stone floor, temporarily knocking the wind out of both of them. They scuffled, the traitor's sword hilt lodging under his ribcage painfully. He grunted and rolled, keeping his hook up. It was the only weapon he had. 

His attacker got up, standing on wobbly legs, drawing their sword. Killian kicked their legs out from under them, barely dodging the blow in time. The sword skittered away and Killian lunged again, catching the traitor around the waist. He howled loudly, as Killian squeezed, reaching up to yank their helmet off. A curtain of hair came tumbling out, hitting him in the face. He coughed and spluttered, the mass of hair filling his mouth.

“You're a _woman_?” he grunted, trying to restrain her.

“Indeed.” The woman's head flew back viciously, hitting him square in the forehead. He was so dazed he let go, falling back to the floor. His head cracked against the stone, making his vision swim. He could only see a vague blob as the woman came at him again—gods, they were causing such a racket, surely someone in the castle would have heard them by now—he wasn't fast enough this time, the blade piercing his side. He screamed, white hot pain flaring in his abdomen.

The sword came down for another blow, but this time Killian was ready, shoving the pain aside and capturing it in his hook, just like he had against the King mere days before. He twisted his arm, yanking the sword from the woman's hands. He tackled her again and hit her square in the temple with his hook, knocking her out cold. He had to fight the urge to kill her, but he knew they would need to question her, find out what she knew, why she was working with the Dark One.

He rolled onto his back, checking his wound with his hand; it came away bloody.  _At least Emma is safe_ . It was the last thought he had before the blood loss claimed him.

* * *

“Shhh, you'll wake him!”

“I want to see him!”

“Emma, you can't. He'll come around when he's ready. There's nothing else you can do.”

“Mother, I'm not leaving him! Now get out of my way.”

Killian tried to open his eyes, but they felt like they were weighed down by stones. He tried moving, but a sharp pain blossomed in his side. He moaned piteously, trying to breathe through it. Gods, it hurt.

“Killian?” a voice—Emma's voice—whispered. “Try not to move, okay? I'm right here.” He felt her lips against his clammy forehead and he tried once again to wrench open his eyes. He blinked against the light, inhaling sharply, which was a mistake. It even hurt to _breathe._

“Emma?” he croaked. At least that's what he thought he said. His throat was so dry it came out more like, “Mmm-a.”

When she came into focus, she was smiling with relief, her green eyes filled with tears. “There you are. Hey.” She kissed his forehead again, before reaching for a pewter mug. “Here, drink this.  _Slowly.”_

The water felt so good—cool and wet, literally the best thing he'd ever tasted in that moment—that he ignored her, gulping it down greedily. He spilled more than he drank, but it didn't matter.

“Stubborn pirate,” Emma muttered, pulling the now empty mug away. She wrung out a cool cloth and wiped his brow with it, sliding it down over his neck and chest. “Better?”

“Much, thank you, love.” He was talking much better now, but his throat was still a bit scratchy from being unconscious. “How long?”

“Almost two days,” Emma said softly. Now that he got a better look at her, he could see the circles under her eyes.

“'M sorry, Emma. We keep doing this.” It was the second time he'd fallen unconscious after being wounded.

“It's not your fault, Killian.” She cradled his cheek with her hand. “At least I wasn't the one who stitched you up this time.”

“Who...?”

“I did, Captain,” Snow White said, coming into his field of vision. “You had us all quite worried there for a while.”

“My apologies, your highness.” He did some calculations in his head. Two days... “Oh gods, the wedding,” he said sadly. “Did we miss it? I'm so sorry, love.”

“Never you mind, Captain,” Snow said firmly. “We can wait until you're sufficiently recovered.”

“I might be able to help with that.” The familiar voice of Tinkerbell filled his ears.

“How?”

“How do you feel about healing spells?” the fairy asked.

Emma looked at her friend gratefully. “Can you do it?”

“Actually, it would probably work better if you did it, Emma.”

“Me?” Emma shook her head. “I'd be too afraid of doing it wrong.”

Killian squeezed her hand. “I trust you, love. You can do it, I know you can.” Frankly, if he was going to get healed by magic, he'd rather it was Emma who did it. He wouldn't feel right if anyone else did it.

Emma looked from him to Tinkerbell to her parents. They all nodded encouragingly. “Okay. I'll try.” She conferred with Tinkerbell briefly, then returned, rubbing her hands together. “Don't think this gets you off the hook, mister,” she whispered. So she knew about his little plan to flush out their traitor. Smee must have told; he never was very good at withstanding interrogations. Killian could deal with that. Emma was safe, that was all that mattered to him.

Emma gently pealed away the bandage that wrapped around his abdomen; Killian winced. “Sorry,” she said softly. She picked up the cloth and cleaned around it once more; the rag came away pink. She looked at him one last time and Killian nodded. Her warm hand rested over his stitches and her brow furrowed in concentration. There was a warm tingling in his skin and a bright flash, then all the pain was gone. The thread that had been holding him together lay in Emma's palm.

“How do you feel now?” she asked.

“Bloody brilliant, love,” he said, grinning at her. To prove it, he sat up and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her firmly against his chest. “Thank you, Emma.”

“I'm still mad at you.”

He laughed. “I know, darling. I know.”

* * *

There still wasn't a throne for him—mostly because the wedding hadn't happened yet—but he merely stood by Emma's as she sat. Snow and David sat in their thrones, waiting for the prisoner to be brought before them. All the other wedding guests gathered on either side of the aisle; one corner looked particularly dark, metaphorically speaking. Aurora and Philip stood back there, Aurora looking shocked and lost. She wouldn't meet anyone's eyes, a far cry from the haughty queen he had met before.

“Bring in the prisoner,” Snow ordered, her voice echoing in the chamber.

Killian knew this process all too well. It was surreal to be on the other side of it. He laid a hand on Emma's shoulder as the great doors opened and the guards brought the prisoner forward. Her temple was still black and blue from where Killian had struck her, but he couldn't being himself to feel bad about it. Not when he was fighting for his life. The woman looked less formidable in the light; perhaps due to her lack of armor. She had a dead look in her eye, like she knew her days were numbered. He didn't know what fate was in store for her; no one had asked his opinion. He was here to tell his side of it and that was all.

“Is this her?” Snow asked him, when the woman came to a stop at the bottom of the dais.

“Aye, that's her.”

“Could you tell us what happened?”

Briefly, he explained his walk about to his suite, the way the woman had accosted him in the corridor. He repeated everything she'd said that he could remember, bits of it were still fuzzy. He did remember getting stabbed though and knocking the woman unconscious with his hook.

Snow nodded when he was finished and turned back to the prisoner. “Can you refute anything the Captain has said?” she asked. The prisoner shook her head.

“Mulan, _why_?” Aurora said, stepping into the light. “Why would you do this?”

Mulan? Killian didn't know who that was, but there were people in the hall who did. Including Emma. She inhaled sharply, her eyes wide. “I didn't even recognize her,” his princess whispered.

The woman called Mulan looked sadly at Aurora. “I swore an oath, my queen. I had to keep you safe.”

“Safe from _what?”_

“The Dark One. He threatened your life if I didn't...” she trailed off, looking helplessly at Emma.

Emma stood. Killian was at her side in an instant. “If you didn't what? If I was your target, then why attack Killian?”

“I wasn't to harm you, princess,” Mulan said. “I was merely supposed to...try and get you to miscarry your child.”

There was a gasp around the hall; Emma actually stepped back, her hands covering her stomach. Killian was torn between trying to comfort her and attacking Mulan for daring to bring harm to his son. He held on to Emma, her presence helping him hang onto some thread of his sanity. David and Snow flanked them protectively, as if even now Mulan would try to harm Emma.

Killian could feel all the eyes on them; Emma's pregnancy had been kept a secret until now. But now everyone knew. He stared back defiantly, daring anyone to say a single word against the woman he loved.

“I still don't understand,” Aurora was saying. “What does a baby have to do with this?”

Emma stirred in his arms, pushing away from him. He tried to hold her back, but she was stubborn. He stepped out in front of her parents, her chin raised. “Because my son is preventing the Dark One from stealing my powers. If I'm no longer pregnant, then he can take them or kill me any time he wants.”

Mulan nodded. “He thought a great enough shock would work. I'm so sorry, princess. I had no choice.”

“You could have come to me, Mulan,” Aurora said, her eyes swimming with tears. She looked far more distressed than a queen ought over the treachery of a servant. Was there something more between them? “We would have helped you.”

Mulan shook her head. “Your life is more important than mine, Aurora.” The tender way she spoke left no doubt in his mind. The warrior was in love with her queen. The kind of love that makes you do things you wouldn't otherwise do. He looked at Emma, imagining how he would react if someone threatened  _her_ life.

But then again he didn't have to. Her life was threatened every single day by Rumplestiltskin. One day, Killian would kill the imp, he swore it.

He stepped past Snow and David, reaching out for Emma. She came without protest, letting him guide her away. There wasn't anything more they could do. Mulan's fate was in someone else's hands now.

Despite the brisk November winds, Killian took Emma out to the  _Jolly Roger_ . They both needed the comforting feeling of the waves. Emma was mostly quiet, answering him in monosyllables when she did speak. They stretched out on the small bunk in the captain's quarters—it was a tighter fit now, but Killian wasn't complaining—holding each other tightly. Killian smoothed her hair with his hand, hoping to soothe her. He had no idea what she was feeling. 

“Killian?” Emma said at last.

“Yes, love?”

“If I asked you to, could we leave? Just go far, far away from here?”

“If you truly wished it, Emma. We could go wherever you want.”

“Even to another world?”

“Such as?”

“Does it matter? As long as Rumplestiltskin couldn't find us?”

Killian pulled back to see her face; there were tear tracks down her cheeks. He would kill that monster for making his love hurt like this. “Do you really think running away would stop him?” he asked gently.

Emma frowned. “Probably not,” she said dejectedly. “But what else is there?”

“You're not in this alone, Emma. There's me and your parents. And unless I'm much mistaken, I think you just inspired the rest of the Enchanted Forest to your cause. You were very brave back there.”

“I don't feel brave.”

“You're the bravest person I know, love. Who else would run away from the only life they've ever known to be a pirate?”

That got her to smile. “People do crazy things when they're in love?”

“As poor Mulan can attest.”

“You noticed that too, huh?”

“Aye. Hence why I'm focusing my rage at Rumplestiltskin instead of her. She's a victim, just as much as you are.”

“So are you. Killian, Rumplestiltskin almost killed you.”

“I'm very hard to kill, in case you haven't noticed,” he said lightly.

“Still, you shouldn't have done that, Killian.” He didn't need her to elaborate on what _that_ was. “How do you think I would handle losing you? Or Liam losing his father?”

“I'm sorry, lass. I saw an opportunity and I took it. I _am_ a pirate, remember?” She opened her mouth to argue some more, but Killian cut her off. “Next time, I will tell you. You have my word.”

“Do you think there will be a next time?” 

Killian nodded. “Aye, that I do. This isn't over, my love.”

“I'm scared.”

“I am too.” Losing Emma or Liam was only thing that truly frightened him. It almost made him want to take Emma up on her offer to leave. To just take the _Jolly Roger_ and get as far away from the Enchanted Forest as they could. But they would forever be looking over their shoulders. And Killian didn't want to live that way, didn't want to raise his family that way. They would find a way to defeat the Dark One. He had to believe that.

“Killian?”

“Hmmm?”

“Kiss me?”

“As you wish.” He captured her lips with his, kissing her slowly, thoroughly, kissing her until he lost track of where he ended and she began, getting completely lost in the love they had together.


	19. Chapter 19

The day that was to have been her wedding day—well, second wedding, but who was counting— Emma spent on the _Jolly Roger_ with Killian, reeling from the knowledge that even now, the Dark One was trying to destroy her life. When she'd heard Mulan say what Rumplestiltskin wanted, her insides had gone cold. Her son, her precious Liam, the embodiment of the love between her and her pirate...it was too awful to contemplate.

To her horror, her first instinct had been to run. To just go as far away as it was possible to get, to an entire other world if necessary. Anything to keep her boy safe. She didn't even care about her magic, didn't care about the fate of the Enchanted Forest; the idea of losing either Liam or Killian blooming like an ache in her chest, one she knew deep in her soul that she would never recover from. What was it her father was fond of saying?  _True Love, once found, can never be replaced._

Losing Killian wasn't an option. Losing Liam wasn't an option.  _This_ was the life she wanted, the one she fought so hard for. And she would continue to fight until the Dark One was destroyed. He'd left her with no other choice, not when he threatened her family.

Quietly, Aurora and Philip left the castle and went home. They took Mulan with them, promising that she would be punished accordingly for her crimes. At the last moment, Emma had begged for Mulan's life, understanding in a way few could that Mulan acted under mitigating circumstances. She should be punished, yes, but to take the poor woman's life seemed too heavy a price to pay. Philip agreed to take her plea under consideration; Aurora merely nodded gratefully. Emma wondered as she watched them leave what would happen to them now.

One thing that would not happen was their participation in the Great Alliance, as Grumpy had taken to calling it. Mulan's betrayal had shaken everyone; the gathered crowned heads taking a closer look at their own entourages. Her father refused to ally his people with anyone who couldn't be trusted, but Emma thought it was a forlorn hope. If Rumplestiltskin could get to Philip and Aurora, he could get to anyone. He just needed the right amount of leverage. Still, she made no argument. It made people feel better to think that they were doing  _something_ , even if that something was hopeless.

“Are you alright, Emma?” Snow White asked, looking concerned. “You seemed far away.”

“I'm fine.”

“Killian doesn't think so.”

“Have you two been talking about me behind my back?” Emma snapped. She immediately regretted it. It wasn't their fault she was having such dark thoughts.

But her mother didn't flinch. “Emma, we're just worried about you. I know it's been hard the last few days.”

“Yeah, well, hearing the the Dark One is conspiring to murder your child is a little hard to take.”

“You may not believe this, but I understand exactly how you feel, Emma.”

“How?” Then Emma realized she was supremely stupid. “Oh. I'm sorry, I forgot.”

Snow smiled wanly. “Yes, we tried to keep things like that from you when you were small. We didn't want you to know. We were trying to protect you.”

Emma had only the faintest of memories from when the Evil Queen still threatened their family. They weren't even anything specific, just a feeling of foreboding that her parents thought she couldn't see. As she got older, things like sword lessons and knowing the emergency routes out of the castle seemed more routine than anything sinister. But she never forgot the day that the Evil Queen's body was brought in, defeated at last. Her father cried in relief, because his family was finally safe. Snow's tears were different, a mixture of relief, sadness and genuine grief at the loss of the woman she had considered a mother. Emma hadn't understood it then, but she thought she understood it a bit better now.

“How did you cope?” she asked quietly. The task before her seemed so huge, so _hopeless_ , that it threatened to swallow her.

“It's a terrible cliché, but day by day,” Snow replied, sitting next to her daughter. “I wouldn't have made it without your father. At my lowest point, when I was a bandit in the forest, I dreamed of running away. Perhaps taking a ship somewhere and living out my days quietly, where Regina couldn't find me.”

“Why didn't you?”

“Because I fell in love.” Snow smiled, remembering. “I'll never forget that day; I think I loved David from the moment I first saw him, only I couldn't admit it to myself. But he never gave up on me. He always found me.”

“That sounds like Killian,” Emma said softly.

“Emma, I know things look bleak now. And I'm not saying this will be easy or that it won't be dangerous. Gods know, I live in terror every day that something could happen to you; that Rumplestiltskin could succeed where Regina failed. But I have hope. We must always have hope.” Snow cradled Emma's face in her hands. “Your father and I believe in you. Killian believes in you. You're going to have a wonderful son to raise. Don't be afraid to lean on those who love you, child. We will always be here for you.”

Emma blinked back tears, feeling closer to her mother than she had in a long time. Perhaps they were more alike than she thought. “I love you, Mama,” she said softly.

“I love you too, Emma.” They hugged each other tight and Emma felt renewed hope fill her heart.

* * *

“Don't you dare lose it,” Emma hissed, as Smee carefully placed Killian's mother's ring— _her_ ring—inside his pocket. “Or I'll have you keel hauled.” That was only a _slight_ exaggeration. But the ring had only been off her finger for a minute and she felt naked without it. She wouldn't get it back until the ceremony.

Smee straightened, saluting her smartly. Emma had to struggle to keep a straight face. “It's safe, milady,” he said seriously. “Never fear.” An interesting transformation had come over him since he'd found out he'd have a place in the ceremony. Killian didn't have any close friends to speak of. His beloved brother was dead. So it fell to Smee to be there with the rings at the appropriate moment. It was an important responsibility and Smee took it more seriously than Emma had ever seen him before.

Emma shooed him away and turned back to her mirror. The face that looked back at her was very different from the one she'd seen the night all this began. Her eyes were brighter, her face fuller, cheeks tinged with pink and her lips stained red. She looked _happy_. Happy, but nervous. Which was ridiculous because she was _already married_ , for gods sake. Been married for months, carrying a child of her own. There was nothing to _be_ nervous about.

As long as Killian was there waiting for her.

Which he would. With everything they'd been through already, it was insane to think that a simple ceremony in front of the entire kingdom would put him off. If he hadn't run yet, he wasn't going to. He was hers.

Greta came in, fussing about something, but Emma wasn't really paying attention. She made some noncommittal noises while her maid did her hair, curls tumbling over her shoulders as befitted a royal bride. Emma let herself be guided through the motions of dressing, almost as if she were in a dream. Focusing on memories, the precious memories she'd gained since meeting her pirate, helped settle her nerves.

“There we are, my lady,” Greta said happily, as she tugged the hem straight on the bottom of Emma's gown. “Very beautiful, if you don't mind me saying.”

Emma looked back at the full length mirror, moving from side to side. “Do you think he'll like it?” She knew it didn't matter what she wore, but she wanted to look her best today.

“He'd be a fool not to, princess.”

“And if he doesn't,” another voice chimed in, “I can still have him executed.”

The corners of her mouth twitched up; she knew that voice. When she turned around, her father was standing there, looking at her with a tremulous smile. “Or you could just challenge him to another duel.”

David ducked his head. “You knew about that? And for the record, he challenged me.”

“I always assumed it was inevitable,” Emma said with a shrug. “Although, it did take longer than I thought it would.”

“It certainly was...enlightening, to say the least.”

“Did he cheat?” Emma asked with a laugh.

It was David's turn to shrug. “Only a little.”

“Well, he _is_ a pirate.”

“That he is.” David closed the distance between them, covering Emma hands with his larger ones. “He loves you very much. I may not agree with everything he's done, or will do, but I trust that he will do everything he can to keep you safe. And your little one.”

“Just like I'll do everything I can to keep _him_ safe, Papa.” Her parents spent much of their early years fighting to be together, to _stay_ together, when forces tried to tear them apart. She would do no less for the one she loved.

“I have no doubt of that, Emma. I am so very proud of you.” David leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Now. I have a gift from your mother, then we should probably get going! Your pirate is waiting.”

* * *

 

The Great Hall was unlike Emma had ever seen it before. She tried to take everything in from the moment the large oak doors opened—by two exceedingly strong knights and _not_ her magic—and she and her father walked slowly down the aisle. Light streamed in the stained glass windows, littering the ground with a riot of color as they stepped through the scattered rose petals. All their guests rose respectfully as she passed, some like Ariel, whispering to their companions what a beautiful bride Emma made. Granny and Ruby were crying openly, as was Grumpy. He and the other dwarves flanked the aisle, an honor guard of sorts for the King and his daughter.

Emma held her father's arm tightly, her knees a bit wobbly. Killian was still nowhere in sight.

Beside her, David chuckled. “I believe you'll see him right about now,” he murmured quietly, as the dais came into view.

Emma swallowed and looked, her eyes searching for Killian's. She felt it all the way to her toes when their gazes finally locked. His ocean blue eyes were shining down at her, filled with love and longing. They hadn't seen each other since the day before; her mother insisted they follow the royal tradition of spending the pre-wedding night apart. Emma had suffered for it, unused to sleeping alone in their large bed.

But none of that mattered now, her pirate was waiting. He fidgeted a bit, rolling on the balls of his feet. Emma smiled; it was a peak at the young lieutenant he'd once been that so few got to see. Her eyes drank him as they approached, the uniform Maria had made for him fitting him perfectly. He was too handsome by half, so beautiful it made her chest ache. This amazing gorgeous man was entirely hers.

The walk seemed to go on forever; Emma would swear later it felt like the path was twisting in on itself, forcing her to walk twice as far as she should have. But finally, _finally_ , she was there. Emma and David stepped up onto the dais, where a small altar had been built in place of the thrones. The gazebo like structure was covered in flowers, some brought in from as far as the Southern Isles. Emma hardly noticed their beauty; she was focused solely on Killian.

“Hello, love,” he whispered, smiling her favorite smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“I was told my True Love would be waiting for me,” she countered, his grin infectious. “You wouldn't know where he is, would you?”

“Tall chap, dark hair, all in leather? Can't say that I do.”

“Well, I guess you'll just have to do then.”

“If the princess wishes.”

David cleared his throat; the assembled crowd laughed. Emma had quite forgotten they had an audience. She flushed and glanced at her father. “Sorry,” she whispered.

But David just smiled. It didn't quite reach his eyes, the conflicting emotions swirling in those crystal blue orbs. Emma felt her throat tighten, a hot ball of emotion making it difficult for her to swallow. This was what her first wedding had been missing. And while she didn't regret it, she was so very thankful that she was getting this moment back. One final moment as her father's little girl. She felt like she was five years old again, marching her father across her nursery as he led her to her own Prince Charming. Emma had never loved her father more than in this moment.

“Papa, I...” Emma swallowed, trying to get the words out, but they wouldn't come.

David nodded, equally emotional. “I know, Emma.” Throwing propriety to the winds, David wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, the way he used to do when she was small. Emma could hear sniffling in the crowd; she was sure there wasn't a dry eye in the room. Hers certainly weren't. She could feel the tears sliding down her cheeks, as she clung to her father—the most important man in her life for nineteen years—not ready to let him go.

“I love you, puntz. So much,” he whispered in her ear. “You are the most beautiful bride.”

“Don't let Mama hear you say that,” Emma whispered back.

“I think she'll let it slide today.”

Emma gave him one final squeeze before he let her go. It dawned on her that this was a _moment_. One of the moments she would remember for the rest of her life. The moment she went from being a daughter to a wife. The moment she truly passed from childhood to adulthood. One very important part of her life was ending and another beginning. She caught a peak at her mother; Snow was crying, sniffling into her kerchief, with Grumpy at her side.

Emma took a deep breath, pulling herself together. David and Killian reached for her simultaneously, seeking to brush away her tears. All three of them laughed quietly. “Go ahead, mate,” Killian said. “I'll be right here.”

David nodded gratefully at him, turning back to Emma. “Thank you for giving this back to me,” he said, thumbing away her tears and smiling. It was a much happier smile this time.

“I'm glad we got this back too.” Emma nodded at Snow. “But you should get back. Mama needs you. I have Killian.”

“I know.” David took her hand and held it off to Killian. “Look after her,” he said seriously.

“With my life,” Killian replied, squeezing Emma's hand.

David gave her one last kiss to her cheek before descending back down the dais. He gathered Snow in his arms, holding her like she was precious.

Emma slid her arm through Killian's, careful to keep the hook away from the fabric. Killian had offered to wear his fake hand, but Emma didn't want him to. She was married to Captain Hook and wanted the whole world to know it.

“You are so beautiful,” Killian whispered as they approached the waiting bishop.

“So you like this old thing then?” she asked. This “old thing” was a high waisted gown of pale gold, with puffed sleeves, slashed with blue to match his coat. The bodice was embroidered with beads and pearls; it shimmered in the right light. The skirt was belled out, falling all the way to her toes, designed to hide her slightly rounded stomach. Not really necessary anymore, but Emma adored this dress, so she left it as it was. Her mother's tiara—passed down to her by _her_ mother—rested on her head, set carefully atop the golden curls.

“You look _gorgeous_ , my love.” He leaned in very close, so that only she could hear him. “And I eagerly await getting that old thing _off_ you.”

Emma felt a shiver race down her spine, feeling his lips brush feather light against the shell of her ear. Even now, her pirate was incorrigible. But she adored him for it.

The bishop looked at them disapprovingly, but Emma just half shrugged. She was completely enamored with the man next to her and didn't care who knew it. If that meant the bishop had to wait a few moments, that was alright with her.

Emma didn't listen much to the formal service; it was long and boring, she merely nodded when required, casting longing glances at Killian. For the most part, he played the attentive officer while Emma studied his profile. There were times where she almost swore it hurt to _look_ at him, he was that perfect. It was the very first thing she'd noticed about him, not ten feet from where they were standing. She remembered all too well the embarrassment she'd felt, having lascivious thoughts about a _pirate_ of all people.

But it was so much more than that now. Emma trusted Killian in ways she'd never trusted anyone. She'd always felt slightly out of step, like there was something missing that she couldn't quite put her finger on. There was only so much freedom she had, as heir to her mother's throne. There was always some responsibility, some task that required her attention, none of which interested her. She wanted love and adventure and a _life_.

And Emma had found that with Killian. He loved everything about her, seeing not the princess, but the woman she truly was. He was her other half, the missing piece of her soul. He often told her how much she'd saved his life, but in truth, he'd saved hers as well.

“Do you have the rings?” the bishop asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Aye,” Killian said with a nod. He turned back, Emma following his eyes. To her immense relief, Mr. Smee was there, holding the rings in his slightly grubby palm.

“Repeat after me,” the bishop intoned. Emma listened as Killian repeated almost the exact same words he'd said to her on the deck of the _Jolly Roger_. Then he took his mother's ring from Smee and slipped it back onto her finger. She instantly felt lighter, like everything was back in its proper place. She smiled broadly, blinking back tears of elation. Killian smiled back, his thumb brushing over the metal that bound her to him.

When it was her turn, Emma had to take several deep breaths to compose herself. But once she did, the words tumbled out almost faster than the bishop could impart them. For Killian's ring, she'd chosen a band similar to her father's but in silver. It hung from a long chain, which Smee handed to her. Emma slipped it over Killian's head, where it would rest among his other charms once he was back in his pirate garb.

“Oh Emma,” he said softly, clearly not expecting such a gesture.

“You belong to me now,” she said, thumbing the scar on his cheek.

Killian turned his head to kiss her palm. “I belonged to you from the moment I saw you.”

A fresh wave of sniffles came from the crowd and Emma blushed. She'd forgotten they were there, witnessing the private moment. She quickly turned them back to the bishop, so that he could finish the service.

To her surprise, the old man was smiling. “You may now kiss your bride.”

“About bloody time,” Killian muttered. His arms were around her in an instant; Emma was smiling so much her cheeks hurt. She met him halfway, their lips coming together hard. They both laughed as Killian kissed her again, nipping at her lower lip playfully. Emma squeaked, surprised, but pulled him closer, hand around his neck, tongue sliding out to tangle with his, all propriety forgotten in this one perfect moment.

* * *

They sat at the center of the high table this time; her parents seated to their left, King and Queen giving way to the remarried couple. The feast was a bit rowdier than such royal functions usually were, but when one half of the newly wed couple was a pirate what else was supposed to happen? The ale was free flowing, the food delicious. Emma had rarely seen such a diverse and varied menu; there were many new things that she didn't even know what half of them _were._ It was inspired, apparently, by Killian's many travels; Edith, the head cook, outdid herself.

Killian kept giving her bits off his plate, sometimes eating them right off his hook. He looked happier than Emma had ever seen him, save the time she told him he would be a father. She tried to memorize the way he looked, the way she felt. She wanted to be able to tell Liam about this one day, about his father and grandfather shouting snide comments across the table, about how his grandmother cried talking about how beautiful the wedding was.

As the dessert plates disappeared, David rose. He clinked his glass to get everyone's attention. “This is usually the moment where the father of the bride makes a speech,” he said, looking down at Emma and Killian. “However, as my lovely wife reminds me, this is Emma's day. So I will be brief.” He picked up his wine glass; everyone followed suit. “May you have a long and happy life together. I know there is no obstacle that the two of you can not overcome...with love and hope in your hearts.”

Emma's eyes burned again, but she managed to compose herself. She looked at Killian as she heard glasses clinking all across the banquet hall. He leaned close, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, wordlessly echoing her father's sentiment.

There were more speeches, some more long winded than others. Emma nudged her chair closer to Killian, resting her head on his shoulder as they listened to various guests drone on. She would have complained, but it _did_ give her a chance to digest the wonderful feast, which was important as there was still some dancing before she and Killian could sneak away. She greatly appreciated how happy everyone seemed to be for them, but she just wanted to be alone with her husband.

“Don't fall asleep on me now, wife,” Killian said quietly, holding her hand in his lap. “I've got plans for you yet.”

“I'm awake. Just thinking.”

“About what, darling?”

“How this seems too good to be true.”

To her surprise, Killian laughed. “I've been having similar thoughts, love. I keep thinking I'll wake up on the _Jolly_ all alone.”

“Overwhelmed by all the royal pageantry, Captain?”

“Overwhelmed that you love me, princess.”

Emma sat up, looking right into those too blue eyes. “I will _always_ love you, Killian.”

“I know.” He squeezed her hand. “Come, the sooner we start this infernal dance the sooner we can _leave.”_

* * *

“I thought we'd never get out of there.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed, as he led them through the castle to their suite. One dance had turned into three, then her father had cut in, demanding his father/daughter dance, which she couldn't in good conscience deprive him of. After that, they'd gotten inundated with well wishes; it had taken every bit of cunning Killian possessed to sneak them away. Somewhere in the bowels of the castle, the treaty signing was taking place, but they didn't need to be there for that. “Do you think we'll be missed?”

“Well, it _is_ our wedding feast.”

“Aye, but what kind of pirate would I be if I didn't abscond with my plunder?”

“Is that what I am? Plunder?”

Killian tugged her to him, pressing her back against the closest wall. “The greatest treasure in all the realms, my love,” he whispered in her ear, before nuzzling her throat. His lips brushed over the sensitive spot behind her ear; she moaned softly, clutching at his upper arms. “Gods, I missed you.”

“It was... _oh_...only one night.”

“Longest night of my bloody life,” Killian replied, kissing the corner of her lips. “Knowing you were right down the hall...it was maddening.” He brushed his nose with hers, kissing her lips lightly. “Never leave me again, love.”

She shook her head. “No. Never.” Emma stood up on her toes, pressing her lips firmly to his, tongue sliding along the seam of his lips. He opened for her instantly, a growl rumbling in his throat. Emma wanted to wrap her whole body around his, touch his bare skin, just _be_ with him, but she was frustrated by their clothes. And they were still out in the corridor. Emma pulled back for a breath. “We should.” Kiss. “Get.” Kiss. “To our room.” Kiss.

“Aye.” He kissed her one last time, stealing her breath, before practically dragging her down the corridor. They were nearly there; she could see the door to their secluded part of the castle ahead of them. Just before they got to the door, Killian paused long enough to scoop her up, making her squeal in surprise. “We're doing this right, love,” he said, kissing her temple.

“But Killian...” Emma wasn't as light as she'd been, even as little as two weeks ago. She didn't want him hurting himself for some stupid tradition.

“Hush,” he said, approaching the door. “And let me carry my wife over the threshold.” He kicked at the slightly open door, letting it swing wide. Killian stepped into the suite, grinning like a fool and Emma couldn't keep the smile off her own face. He was stubborn, but he was _her_ stubborn pirate. She laughed as he put her down, turning back to shut and _lock_ their door.

Not that she expected _anyone_ to even attempt to bother them. She had no plans to leave until she'd gotten her fill. And _that_ could take a long time. Forever, if she had any say about it.

“Happy now?” Emma asked, tugging him back to her by his hook.

“Getting there, love,” Killian said softly, cupping her cheek with his good hand. He leaned down and captured her lips once more, his kiss heavy with all the longing that been building since they'd parted the day before. Emma melted against him, arms sliding up around his neck, anchoring herself to him. She had missed him so much, it felt like a piece of her had been missing. She clutched at the sash that spread over his chest, trying vainly to get him closer. Killian wrapped his hooked forearm around her waist, bringing their bodies flush as he continued to kiss the life out of her. She gave as good as she got, nipping at his lips, fire flaring in her belly.

“Killian...”

“I've not had you for over a day,” he murmured, sounding as wrecked as she felt. “But patience, my love.”

She didn't bother to tell him that patience wasn't her strong suit.

Emma sighed as his lips moved over her skin, down along the column of her throat, over her chest. Her head fell back; Killian caught her tumbling tiara just in time, tossing it into a nearby chair. His hand snaked into her curls, gently massaging her scalp as his scruff scratched at her pale skin. It felt like she was burning, her dress too hot, her skin too tight. She needed to _feel_ his hand on her, skin to skin, the cool metal of his hook sliding over her flushed skin.

Emma dug her fingers into his sash and dragged him over to the fireplace, to the bearskin rug that she loved. “Please, Killian,” she whispered, catching his kiss swollen lips with hers. “I need you.”

“And I need you, love.” Killian's good hand went behind her and started tugging on the laces of her gown, loosening it from her body. He slowly peeled it down, her arms slipping from the sleeves, the bodice falling to her waist. Killian palmed her breast gently, kneading the sensitive flesh. Emma arched her back, eyelids fluttering closed. She wiggled her hips, the gown falling off the rest of the way, pooling at her feet. Emma stepped out of it, kicking it aside, now naked except for the black lace underwear she'd bought just for the occasion. Killian drank her in, his blue irises almost completely obscured by lust. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Emma pulled him to her, kissing him again as her fingers moved to the buttons on his uniform coat. She yanked the sash away impatiently, pushing the coat off. His uniform was much more complicated than his pirate clothes; it took far longer than she wanted to get the vest, cravat, shirt, boots, and tight white pants off him.

“You wanted me dressed like this,” Killian chuckled quietly, as Emma pushed the trousers over his hips. “Remember, love?” He nipped at her earlobe, nose buried in her hair.

“Well, now I want you _un_ dressed,” she mumbled, hands sliding over his blessedly bare skin.

“I could be naked all the time, darling,” he said, kicking the trousers away. “Just say the word.”

Emma swallowed, stalking around him, taking in his beautiful form. Gods, she would never get tired of seeing him like this, completely nude and wanting. The thickly furred chest, the defined toned musculature, the tight ass and long thick cock that begged for her touch. Emma skimmed the pads of her fingers over his warm skin, not missing the way his breathing hitched when she hit a sensitive spot.

“Emma,” he bit out, rocking on the balls of his feet again. “You're being a tease, love.”

“What happened to patience?” she asked innocently, hands squeezing his ass in the way she knew drove him crazy.

“Sod patience,” he growled, jerking her back around to face him. He kissed her deeply, his cock pressing into her stomach, hot and heavy. Emma rubbed her body against his wantonly, her own need reaching a boiling point. She _needed_ him inside her, touching her, surrounding her, bringing her as much pleasure as she could take.

Killian lowered them to the floor with a grunt, Emma landing squarely in his lap. He tore at her underwear with his hook, the lace reduced to scrap. “Legs around me, lass.” Emma hurried to do as he bid, hot anticipation blooming in her stomach. She locked eyes with him, as his good hand slipped between them, guiding him to her aching flesh. Emma didn't impale herself just yet, rubbing her wet folds over the head of his cock, a shiver racing down her spine at the intimate contact. “Minx,” Killian growled again, rolling his hips under her.

Emma bit her lip, sliding her hips to the right angle to finally, _finally,_ take him inside her. “Oh gods, yes,” she moaned, as she lowered herself down inch by delicious inch. She never got over just how amazing he felt buried deep within her, stretching her, _filling_ her in all the best ways. “Feels so good, Killian.”

“Aye,” he agreed with a groan. “So bloody good, lass.” He kissed her, hand and hook sliding over her ass, encouraging her to move.

Emma bounced in his lap, using her legs around his waist for leverage as she moved. She moved slowly, savoring the drag of him along her tight wet walls. The hardened peaks of her nipples rubbed against his chest hair, making her sigh in pleasure. Killian touched her everywhere he could reach, the contrast of skin and metal on her flushed skin stoking the fire in her belly. “Don't stop,” she pleaded, mind fogged with lust. “Gods, don't stop touching me.”

“Never,” Killian swore, nipping at her collarbone. He sucked a mark into her neck, teeth scraping over her sweat slicked skin. Emma shivered and tightened her fingers in his hair, desperate for some kind of purchase. The pressure built steadily with her slow movements, her orgasm tantalizingly out of reach. Emma tightened her legs around him; his cock slipped deeper into her, until he bottomed out.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Emma cried, her eyes wide. “ _Yes.”_

Killian rolled his hips under her, cursing under his breath. “That's it, Emma. Ride me, love. Feels so fucking incredible.”

Emma picked up her pace, nails digging into Killian's shoulders. In moments, she was shaking, hips stuttering. “I'm gonna come,” she half sobbed. “Killian!” He held her to his chest as she shuddered, wave after wave of her release crashing into her, stealing her breath. Her powerful orgasm sparked his, Killian's shout of completion muffled by his head buried in her neck. His hips rutted into hers, drawing out their pleasure, until they fell back against the rug, Emma splayed over his chest.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that; Emma might have dozed, the steady thump of Killian's heart in her ear infinitely soothing. He played with her hair as they caught their breath, neither speaking, just enjoying the quiet moment.

Emma was only vaguely aware, when Killian gently slid her off him, rolling her onto her back. She smiled as he moved, resting his head on her rounded stomach. “Hi.”

“Hello, darling,” he murmured, kissing her stomach. “How do you feel?”

“Pretty fantastic actually,” she replied, running her fingers through his dark hair.

Killian laughed. “Well, you _look_ thoroughly debauched, so I certainly hope so.”

“Well, I _did_ get ravished by a pirate.”

“That? Oh no, love. Later,” he promised.

“Good.” It just didn't feel right if she went to bed not feeling used and a bit sore. She was dreading the time when they _couldn't_ have this.

“Insatiable, you are.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“Gods, no. Just wondering how I got so damned lucky.”

“To find someone who likes sex as much as you do?” she teased.

“To find someone who loves me just as I am, Emma.”

Emma's face softened, fingers gliding over the face that she loved so much. “Funny, I kinda think I'm the luckier one.”

“How's that?”

“Because I found someone who sees _me_. Who doesn't want me to be anything other Emma. You've given up so much to be with me.”

“You're worth it, my love. Our family is worth it.” He kissed her stomach again. “Papa already loves you very much, Liam,” he said to the bump. “Your mum too, little one.”

Tears pricked her eyes as she watched her husband continue to murmur quiet words to their son. She remembered her nightmare, the one where Liam was walking. She wanted that so much. She wanted to see Killian with his son, the pure joy on his face. He'd lost so much, all of his family gone now. He was getting a second chance at a family, at a _home_. They couldn't waste it. She wanted everything, a family, a home, and she wanted it with _this_ man, who'd literally fought the darkest evil in their world for her.

“Killian?”

“Yes, love?”

“I love you.”

He slid up her body, until he was level with her. “I love _you_ , Emma. Never _ever_ doubt the love I feel for you.”

She shook her head. “I won't. I promise.”

He kissed her sweetly, his lips lingering, his scent surrounding her. She moved to deepen the kiss, but he shook his head. Without a word, he picked her up once more and took her back to their bed. It was well past midnight before they fell asleep.


	20. Chapter 20

“How goes it, Mr. Smee?”

His first mate nodded respectfully. “We've a fair wind, Cap'n. If the gods are kind, we should be there in two days time.”

“Well, let's hope they continue to smile down on us. We've another stop after this one.”

Smee looked at him curiously. “Where, Cap'n?”

“Never you mind,” Killian said, spinning on his heel. “One thing at a time, Smee!”

“Aye, aye, Captain!”

Killian headed down to the main deck, making a cursory inspection of every nook and cranny, or at least pretending to. His skeleton crew had been supplemented by a handful of part time sailors from the village near the castle; most walked in fear of him. Emma thought it was funny. Killian wasn't sure how he felt about it; it was another thing that took some getting used to, like being married to a princess, or being married at all, really. Still, he was thankful to be back at sea once more. It had been too long.

After the wedding, they had heeded Emma's suggestion; sneaking away in the night, his cloaked ship slipping from the dock while a show was made of a carriage heading out to the summer palace. It was a good plan, a smart plan, and now...they were free. Free to go anywhere they wanted without fear of the Dark One.

That didn't stop Killian from being vigilant. Even though no one could _see_ the _Jolly Roger_ , he still had watches posted twenty four hours, changed every two. And when they left the ship, Killian would make sure he was with Emma at all times. No one would get to her, unless they went through him first. Not even Rumplestiltskin.

Killian pushed thought of the Dark One away. He didn't want to spend what amounted to his second honeymoon wallowing in abstract fear of something he couldn't properly fight. He wanted to spend it with his loving, beautiful wife, having one final adventure before their world got turned upside down...again. Little Liam would be here in a few short months and there were no words to truly express just how happy and  _terrified_ he was. For so many years, he'd only been responsible for himself. Himself and his crew. Now he had Emma—who was quite capable herself—and a tiny little person to worry about. 

Killian swallowed, staring out into the early morning sunrise. A father. Him. Captain Bloody Hook. No, that was wrong. Killian Jones. The man who as a boy had been left— _abandoned—_ by his own father, set aside like so much refuse. What kind of father would he be?  _Could_ he be a father at all? He was a pirate. What did he know about it? The only real father he'd ever known was his brother, and Liam had been taken from him in the cruelest way imaginable.

_I miss you, brother_ , he thought, hand gripping the rail tightly.  _I wish you were here. To meet Emma. To meet your nephew. Bloody hell, even to boss me around and tell me what to bloody do, because I haven't got a clue._

He didn't even know she was there until her thumb brushed away the tear from his cheek. “Hey,” Emma said softly, peering up at him through her lashes. Killian blinked rapidly, ashamed to have been caught crying. Emma's sun kissed hair was blurry, her green eyes soft and concerned. He tried to smile; he didn't want her to worry. 

“You should be asleep, lass.”

“I woke up and you weren't there. I missed you.” She rested her hand over his heart, just under the fabric of his shirt. Her touch was warm and soothing; she must have climbed out of their bunk only minutes ago.

“I'm sorry, love.”

“It's okay.” She paused, gauging his mood. “Are you okay?”

“'M fine, lass.”

It looked like she wanted to say something more, but then thought better of it. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist, under his coat, and held him close. Her warm breath tickled his chest, but he made no protest, her silent comfort all he needed. Killian rested his cheek on top of her head, arms tight across her shoulders. He would tell her...later. Right now, all he wanted was to hold her.

* * *

“Are you ever going to tell me where we're going?” Emma asked, after they returned to their cabin.

“Where would the fun be in that?”

Emma rolled her eyes in mock irritation. “You're incorrigible, Captain Jones.”

“And _you_ are very impatient, _Mrs._ Jones.” This, the flirting, teasing banter, was much more in his comfort zone. Especially with what was ahead. 

“Is it too late to renege on that?”

“I'm afraid so, lass. The bishop solemnized our union for the whole world to see.”

“Damn.” Emma curled her hand around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. “Guess I'll just have to make the most of it then.”

“Yes, it's quite the hardship being tied to an old sea dog like me.”

Emma ran her hand over his leather clad stomach, biting her lip as her eyes followed until she was looking back up into his face. “Oh, I don't know. I can think of a few  _perks_ in this situation.”

“Such as?”

Her fingers moved over the clasps of his vest, the metal loosening. “Well, with  _age_ comes  _experience_ , yes?” Her lips ghosted over the exposed skin of his chest; Killian's eyes fluttered closed in spite of himself. How did she always seem to know what he needed?

“Is that what my blushing bride is looking for?” he murmured, hand on her shoulder to steady him. “Experience?”

“Perhaps.” Emma pushed his long coat off his shoulders; the leather hit the floor with a heavy thump. His vest quickly followed, leaving him in his thin linen shirt and leather pants. Tendrils of desire curled in his stomach as her delicate hands moved over him; her touch simple and light, yet still burning through the fabric. He had just had her a few hours ago; clearly she wasn't through with him yet. He prayed she never would be.

“Tell me what you want, love.” he mumbled, hand diving into her blonde hair. He titled her head back for another kiss, her lips soft and pliant against his, moving in a dance they both knew well. No matter how often he kissed her, it always felt new, like a spark igniting just under the surface. All other thoughts were forgotten; all that mattered was this, his princess warm and soft and needy in his arms.

“I just need you, Killian.” She tugged on the chains around his neck, pulling him flush against her. She needed him quite often since settling into this part of her pregnancy; he couldn't imagine what that felt like, practically being a slave to the needs of your body. But no matter how often she reached for him like this, he always did his utmost to give her the satisfaction she craved.

“You've got me, Emma.” He tore at her nightdress, a frilly pale rose contraption that wilted under the power of his hook. Ripping sounds filled the cabin as the fabric loosened around her body, slipping from her body to the floor. She was completely naked underneath it. “Gods above, lass,” he whispered against her skin, gooseflesh rising in his wake.

“Too...many...clothes,” Emma replied, pulling at his own shirt. He helped her get it over his head, her movements a bit clumsier than usual. The slow seductress was gone; this woman was driven by pure need. She slapped his hand away when he reached for his brace. “Leave it.”

Killian groaned as her hand moved to the front of his trousers, pressing hard against the bugle. He unashamedly rocked his hips into her touch. “Do you want me to use it on you, love?” he asked, voice a husky whisper in her ear. He knew how much she loved the feel of the metal on her skin. “Make you come with my hook?”

Emma let out a shaky breath, hand tightening on his bare shoulder for support. “Oh yes, please.” She slid her hand over his neck, cupping his stubbled cheek to bring his lips back to hers. “Gods, Killian, I need you so much.”

“I know, love. I know,” he said between kisses. Awkwardly, Killian toed off his boots, kicking them away viciously. Each one slammed hard into the ancient wood, but he needed to be naked. Right now. He kissed every part of Emma he could reach as they both yanked on his trousers, the leather creaking ominously under their forceful hands. Once he was nude, he pulled Emma against him by the waist, sweeping his left arm across the nearest horizontal surface.

Papers, charts, ink pot, quills, books, unlit candle all tumbled to the floor with a loud crash. Killian wasted no time hoisting Emma up onto his desk, his lips returning to her flushed skin. He nipped and sucked at her, teeth scraping the burning skin, ears ringing with the sounds she made. Emma leaned back on her elbows, giving Killian free reign to her body, trusting him to take care of her. Killian latched onto a pert nipple, laving the puckered flesh with his tongue while smoothing his hook over its twin. Emma gasped and arched, pressing herself closer to his touch.

“More,” she said brokenly. “Feels so good.”

Killian could feel the heat radiating off her, a contrast to the relatively cool air of the room. Her legs parted for him with the barest touch of his knee, exposing her slick flesh. He loved when she got like this, completely wanton and desperate for him, like there was an ache only he could fill. And gods, did he want her. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before; she had him bewitched, unable to think of anything other than her, of how she felt around him, of watching her fall apart for him over and over again.

“Gods, Emma.” Killian dragged the curved edge of his hook over her smooth pale skin, teasing her. He traced her curves, amazed that she was all his, that this woman wanted him, scars and all. He was shaking, trying to control himself long enough to give her what she wanted, before he gave in and buried himself inside her tight slick walls. The hook moved over the inside of her thigh; Emma spread her legs wider.

“Hurry,” she pleaded. “I need it.”

Killian groaned, want pooling in his stomach, fingers tightening at her hip. “Fuck, love. So wanton for me.” He slid the steel through her folds, grinning lecherously when Emma moaned loudly. “That's it, darling,” he encouraged. “Let me hear you.” The walls around their cabin weren't that thick, but he didn't care who heard them. His crew at the very least, was used to such sounds coming from the captain's quarters.

“Gods, _again_ ,” Emma mumbled. “Don't tease me, Killian.”

“As you wish.” He pressed harder, the curved edge of his hook slick with her arousal as he glided it through her sopping flesh. He leaned down to trail wet kisses along the exposed column of her throat, sucking harshly on her pulse point. Emma whimpered and mewled, hips rocking desperately, like she was trying to fuck his hook. He rubbed it over her hard clit, murmuring filthy things into her skin. Emma's head thrashed, her whole body going taut. “Come for me, princess.”

Her broken sob filled the cabin as she shattered in his hold, her face a picture of pure ecstasy. “Gods, I love watching you come,” he mumbled, nipping at her collar. “So fucking beautiful when you come.” He pulled his hook away, stepping more fully between her legs. His cock was rock hard, straining with need. He needed her so much it hurt. “Tell me I can have you, Emma.”

Emma raised her head, giving him a sleepy smile. “Take me, Killian.”

Killian jerked her to him, covering her mouth with his in a fiery kiss. He mauled her lips, shoving his tongue inside her mouth, groaning when her heat came into contact with his erection. Emma rolled her hips against him, legs sliding up over his hips. “Bloody minx,” he gasped. His good hand slipped between them, guiding the head of his cock to her entrance. He slid in with a slowness that belied his desperation, savoring the moment as he sheathed himself inside her slick heat. “Fuck.”

“Oh yes,” Emma moaned, clutching at his shoulders. _“Killian.”_

He moved slowly, pulling almost completely out before sliding back in, all the way to the hilt. “You love this, don't you?” he asked, peppering her skin with kisses. “You need me inside you, fucking this hot, tight, greedy cunt. So good, love.”

“Oh fuck.” Emma raised her legs higher, locking her ankles around his waist. “Just like that, Killian. So deep inside me. So _full.”_

Killian's eyes almost rolled back in his head, hearing Emma like this driving him crazy with lust. He thrust forward harder than before, starting to lose the precious threads of his control. “You're _mine_ ,” he growled. “Say it.”

“ _Yours,”_ Emma breathed. “Fuck, Killian. All yours.”

“Hang on,” he ordered harshly. As much as he wanted to take her slowly, to draw out their pleasure, he was on fire. He needed to come, needed to send her spiraling into another orgasm. Emma tightened her hold on him, hands in his hair, dragging his lips back to hers. She kissed him desperately, silently encouraging him to take what he needed from her body. He moaned into her kiss, rocking into her faster, his movements more erratic and frantic. He sought out the place that would make her tumble into oblivion, a surge of pride filling him when he heard her cry out. He was relentless, the sounds of their frantic coupling filling the room.

“ _Killian!”_ Emma screamed, her orgasm slamming into her almost without warning, her tight walls squeezing him like a vice. He could swear they were getting more powerful, rocking her to her very core. He pushed through it, seeking his own release. His hips stuttered once, twice, then he tumbled over the edge, grunting hoarsely.

Emma held onto him, head on his shoulder, her breathing harsh and labored. Killian pressed breathless kisses to her sweat slicked skin, tasting the salt on his tongue. He leaned heavily on the edge of the table, careful not to squash her. “Better?” he mumbled, fingers trailing along her spine.

Emma gave him a half laugh, half grunt. “Much. Love you.”

“I know.” Giving her whatever she needed to get through this pregnancy was no hardship for him, especially when it was something they both thoroughly enjoyed. “I suppose that's gained us a couple of hours, right?”

Emma huffed, swatting at his shoulder. “It's not that bad!”

“Speak for yourself, love.”

Emma sat up, rolling her eyes at him. “Well, if it's  _so hard_ for you, perhaps I should just deal with things myself.”

“Don't you dare. Unless I get to watch.”

Emma bit her lip, her cheeks tinging pink. “I'm sure that can be arranged, Captain.”

“I love you so bloody much, do you know that?”

“I know. I can feel it. Right here.” She covered his heart with her small hand. He could have sworn it jumped under her touch. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“Love, you stole it before I even knew it was gone.”

“What can I say? I was born to be a pirate.” She leaned forward and kissed his lips gently, making his body hum all the way to his toes.

* * *

“Helmsman, hard to port! Or we'll miss the bloody dock!”

“Hard to port, aye!” Lucas muttered an apology under his breath as he quickly corrected his mistake.

It wasn't entirely the lad's fault. There was a heavy fog that lingered over the small seaside town; they would have missed it if Killian didn't know the coastline so well. But he had grown up here. He knew every shoal and sandbar for five miles in either direction. When he'd been a boy it had been a bustling trading town, with ships from nearly every realm making port to load or unload their precious cargoes.

It was also where his father had abandoned him.

“Is everything alright?” Emma asked as she stepped up onto the quarterdeck.

“Aye, lass,” Killian replied, helping her up with a hand under her arm. It was getting more difficult for her to keep her balance these days. “Just a small correction. We should be making port very soon.”

“Are we staying long?”

“That's up to you, love.” He wasn't sure how she would feel about him showing her this. Hell, _he_ wasn't sure how he felt about showing her this. But as Liam's birth approached, Killian felt more and more the ghost of his father, the desire to put him to rest once and for all.

Emma searched his face, her green eyes curious. “It would help to know _where_ we were.”

“A little town you've never heard of. It's called White Haven.”

Emma turned her head and peered through the mist. It was difficult to make much of it out, the fog clung low to the ground coming off the water. “Why here?”

Killian gently brought her around to face him, his finger under her chin. “Because this is where I'm from, love.”

“ _Here?”_ Emma swallowed, looking up at him with huge eyes. “And this is where...”

“Aye. When I was just a wee lad.”

Emma's face softened in sympathy, arms going around his waist. His abandonment no longer carried the sting it once had, but he adored her for her desire to ease the dull ache in his heart. His princess was fiery and passionate, but she also sweet and loving and deeply compassionate. He still wasn't sure what he'd done to win her love.

They didn't speak; Emma merely held him until the _Jolly_ was secure in her berth. The port wasn't bustling place it had been twenty years ago, but they were not the only vessel in the harbor. Three others made White Haven their home for the night. Killian made mental notes on all of them; even with their deception, the outside world was a dangerous place. He wouldn't rest easy until they were back out on the open sea.

“Shall we take a look around, love?”

Emma squeezed his waist one last time before nodding her head. “I'd like that.”

Killian left the _Jolly_ under the watchful eye of Mr. Smee; a handful of other crew disembarked to replenish a few of their stores. He ordered everyone to be back by sunset; shirkers ran the risk of being left behind.

“So we're _not_ staying long?” Emma said knowingly, linking her arm with his as they headed down the gangplank.

Killian winced. “Sorry, love. If you truly wish to stay longer, we will. But truthfully, there's not much to see.” He was deliberately trying play down the myriad of emotions that swirled in his chest. He'd never expected to come back here, what had possessed him to show Emma _this_ place?

If Emma saw his discomfort, she didn't comment. “How long were you here?” she asked. “Were you born here?”

Killian shook his head. “No, I was born in an even tinier place than this. I don't even think it had a name. Our homestead was a few miles away from here, surrounded by a cluster of others just like it. This is where everyone came for the harder to come by necessities, some found work here as well.”

They crossed the dock, heading deeper into town. It looked the same to Killian, the same yet different. Most of the store fronts at the wharf were much grubbier than he remembered; when he was young, people took pride in their little shops, keeping them freshly painted and gleaming. But it was only a facade. Back from the wharf, deeper into the town, things were dark and dingy, with people crammed into small hovels piled on top of each other. That was where Killian spent his youth after his father abandoned him, wandering around seeking shelter and food where he could get it. Sometimes he'd run an errand for one of the shopkeepers, earning the occasional coin. He hoarded what little he managed to scrape together, often fighting boys twice his size to keep his meager belongings. That was the state Liam found him in not long after his twelfth birthday, ragged and dirty and hungry.

Killian had never been so happy to see anyone, hardly believing that Liam was real at first. His brother had been gone so long that Killian had begun to believe that he'd only imagined his burly older brother. But there he was, larger than life, promising to make everything alright. And he had, persuading his captain to take Killian on board their ship as a cabin boy, changing his life forever.

_I'm here now, little brother. You'll never be alone again. I promise._

But it was a promise that not even the steadfast Liam Jones could keep.

“Killian?”

“Yes, love?”

“Are you okay?”

Killian shook his head. “Not especially.”

“Do you want to go back?”

He shook his head again. “No, I want...I want you to see. To _know._ I just didn't...”

“Expect it to hurt this much?”

He sighed heavily. “Aye.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Killian gave her a grateful smile; he _did_ want to talk about it, for the first time in very long time. He'd given Emma the basics of what had happened to him, he thought that had been enough. But the memories were still painful, especially now that they were here in this place. He wanted Emma to know him completely, the same way she'd let him get to know her. She was the only person he could trust this part of himself with.

He guided them into a nearby tavern, snagging a table at the back. It was busy enough that they weren't likely to be overheard. Drinks acquired, Killian scratched at his neck nervously, unsure of how to begin.

“Is it very different from when you were a boy?” Emma asked, giving him an encouraging smile.

Using that as a jumping off point, Killian launched into his story. He told her everything he could remember; not all of his memories were painful. Emma was an excellent audience, asking questions, smiling at his boyhood triumphs. She never made him feel like he was _lesser_ because they'd grown up in such vastly different environments. She merely covered his hand with hers when he spoke of waking up to find his father gone without a trace. Of staying in the town, scraping by. She smiled at Liam finding him, giving him a home. For a little while at least.

“I don't even know if he's still alive,” Killian said finally. “My father.”

“Do you want him to be?”

Killian shrugged. “Not unless it involves taking a swing at him with my hook.”

“It's been twenty years. He might be dead.”

Killian snorted, his temper flaring. “The ultimate irony would be that that wanker is still alive while Liam is dead.”

“I'm so sorry, Killian. I know he meant a lot to you.”

Killian felt his flash of anger ease, Emma's gentle tone soothing. “I just wish he could have met you.” A wry smile curved his lips. “His little brother married to a princess. He'd of had a right good laugh at _that_.”

“It does seem unlikely for the _uptight_ lieutenant that Liam knew,” Emma said with a grin. “Perhaps princesses like pirates better?”

“I have a feeling that _you_ , my love, would have turned even _that_ uptight lieutenant's head.” Killian could feel the weight that had settled on his shoulders begin to ease. Telling Emma about his past was surprisingly cathartic; he felt lighter than he had since they'd left the castle nearly a week ago.

“You think so?”

Killian leaned in conspiratorially. “I don't know if you realize this, Emma, but you happen to be a very beautiful woman.”

“Beautiful enough to distract a stick in the mud lieutenant?”

“A very _handsome_ lieutenant,” Killian corrected her. “Tell me, love, _if_ such a man had approached you, would you have even given him the time of day?”

Emma looked at him through her lashes, her fingers toying with his. “Perhaps. I think I could be persuaded to grace him with a dance. Does this lieutenant dance?”

“Indeed he does. Quite well, actually.”

“Good.” She smiled at him, a coy smile, much like the shy lieutenant would have received. “I do so love to dance.”

“I would have never guessed.”

“Turns out I was merely looking for the right partner. One who knows what he's doing.”

Killian felt her foot run up his leg, her shoe pressing firmly against the leather. “Bloody siren,” he muttered. “You are asking for trouble, princess.”

“Can't take it, Captain?”

Their ability to switch gears never ceased to amaze him. He'd been pouring out some of his most painful memories only a few minutes ago, and now he was adjusting his seat, feeling his blood running decidedly _south._ All because of this incredible woman who agreed to be his wife.

“We're going. _Now.”_ Killian threw some gold on the table and stood. He didn't miss the speed with which Emma joined him, _giggling_ as they left the tavern. It was such a warm _happy_ sound; gods, he loved her laugh. To hear her laugh, to see her smile, to feel her _love_ him, especially in _this_ place...Killian was sure they'd leave here with much happier memories than what he'd arrived with.

* * *

They _did_ wind up staying in the port for several more days, as it happened. It was their honeymoon; they had nowhere to be, no schedule to keep. Killian's other surprise would still be there whenever they decided to move on. As long as Emma was healthy, there was no reason they couldn't stay away for as long as they liked.

Each day, Killian took her into town, where they saw what little there was to see. After their talk in the tavern, Killian was able to see the place with new eyes, to remember more of the fleeting happy times. He talked more of his mother, of Liam and their seafaring adventures. Those memories would be important for his brother's namesake; Killian didn't want to hide his past from his son. He desperately wanted to be the father that his own father hadn't been.

“What about this one, love?”

Emma examined the toy critically. “It's a...” She frowned. “Um, _what_ is it?”

The shopkeeper huffed. “It's a top! The finest craftsmanship, I assure you, my lady.”

“It's, um, nice.” They were looking for something for Liam's nursery; Emma thought he should have something from the place his father spent so much time. She moved along the shelves, not glancing twice at the apparently shoddy top. Killian chuckled behind her; he wondered if she even knew how much of the haughty princess was showing right now.

“Tell me, darling, are you going to turn your nose up at _everything_?”he asked, leaning in close to her ear.

“I did no such thing,” she denied.

“You forget. I _know_ you, lass.”

Emma glared at him, but he could see the truth in her eyes. “I just...I was looking for something specific.”

“And what would that be?”

Emma bit her lip, glancing over Killian's shoulder. The shopkeeper seemed to have moved on for the moment. “In my nursery, there were these...dolls. They watched over my crib. One was a knight and the other was a naval officer. Mother used to say they watched over me while I was sleeping, keeping me safe.”

“And you were hoping to find something like that for Liam.”

“Yeah. But we can pick something else.”

“Well, let's keep looking. Perhaps we'll find something suitable.” He slid his hand down to the small of her back, guiding her along the rows of shelves. She didn't need it; he just wanted the excuse to touch her. He was rewarded when Emma leaned into him, clearly craving closeness as much as he. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, kneading the muscle gently.

“Hmmm, that feels nice.”

“A bit achy, love?”

“It's not bad. My feet are killing me though.”

“We should get you back to the ship.”

“Just a few more minutes.” She slid away from him, as if to prove that she really was fine, and moved ahead along the shelf searching for _something_ to bring home for Liam. Her face was a mask of concentration, until she came to a stop. “Killian!” she said eagerly. “Come and see!”

He strode over to where she was pointing. There on the shelf lay a small wooden doll...dressed as a pirate. There was a skull and crossbones emblazoned on the hat. “Bloody hell.”

“We have to get it. It's perfect.”

“Aye. But where's the princess to go with it?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Liam won't want a _princess_ , Killian.”

“How do you know? I happen to know a princess who's pretty powerful in her own right.”

“Okay, how about one who's a witch?”

“Is that what you are, love?”

Emma shrugged. “Apparently. It still feels weird.”

Killian kissed her temple. “You are bloody brilliant, Emma.”

“I'm really not.”

“Oi! I'm the bloke who's in love with you, don't argue!”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” But she was smiling; it was his favorite smile, the one that lit up her face, making her even more breathtakingly beautiful.

Killian hung their package from his hook, using his other arm to wrap around Emma's shoulder as they exited the shop. It had taken another half an hour, but they had finally located a suitable mate for their little wooden pirate. But now they were going home. In the morning, they would leave, moving on to their next destination.

They took a short cut that Killian learned as a boy, ducking down an alley and away from the busy main street. He wanted to get Emma off her feet as soon as possible; they'd been doing a lot of walking over the last few days. Emma's mild complaint in the shop was the first time she mentioned it paining her. With her pregnancy proceeding apace, he would need to more aware of her little aches and pains, doing what he could to relieve them.

As they passed one of the seedier taverns, a tall chestnut haired man stumbled out, drunk. He was so drunk that tripped and fell flat on his face right in front of Emma, causing her to nearly stumble and fall.

“Watch where you're going you bloody git!” Killian cried, shoving the man away with his heavy boot. “Or better yet, lay off the rum!” The irony of decrying the use of spirits was not lost on him. But that was before some wastrel in a drunken stupor nearly hurt his princess.

The man mumbled something, but Killian didn't stick around to find out what it was. He checked to make sure Emma was alright, then herded her off toward the docks. They got about thirty paces when he heard someone shout his name. His real name.

“Jones! I say, _Killian Jones!”_

“What the bleeding hell?” He and Emma turned to see a man around Killian's age with blond hair and piercing blue eyes, striding toward them. He looked vaguely familiar, but Killian couldn't place him. He tightened his hold on Emma, who wisely remained silent. “Do I know you, mate?”

“You don't remember.” The man's face fell briefly, but he seemed to shrug it off. “Can't say I'm surprised, it's been what? Twenty years?”

Killian squinted, the voice niggling something in the back of his mind. A rounder face, but those same eyes only with dirtier blond hair. “Duncan?”

“You _do_ remember!” Duncan clapped his hands together, clearly pleased. “No way I could forget you, of course. Having much better luck with the lasses, I see.”

There was something about Duncan's stance that unnerved him. For all his outward friendliness, Killian got the impression of a cat waiting to pounce. “Aye, this is my wife, Diana,” he said coolly, calling on that alias that Emma had put to use the last time they'd gotten cornered in an alley. “We were just heading back to my ship.”

“Well, aren't you a pretty one,” Duncan said to Emma. “And in a family way, I see as well. Well done, Jones!”

Killian felt Emma shiver in his hold; he looked down at her and she shook her head infinitesimally. It seemed she didn't trust Killian's “friend” anymore than he did. Bless her lie detecting ability.

“Yes, well, it was good to see you again, Duncan. I really do need to get Diana back to the ship. As you said, family way and all that. Could you excuse us?”

“Of course, forgive me for keeping you. Will you be staying in town long? We should have a drink!”

“I'm afraid we leave in the morning.” They were leaving as soon as they got back to the ship, but Duncan didn't need to know that.

“That's a pity.” Duncan reached into the pocket of his coat and drew out a dagger. “I was hoping to avoid a scene, but now you've left me no choice.”

Killian instantly pushed Emma behind him and drew his sword. Thank the gods he was wearing it. “Bloody hell, Duncan! What are you on about?”

“You stayed too long, Killian. Did you really think the Dark One wouldn't find you?”

Killian growled dangerously. “What do you know of the Dark One, Duncan?”

“I know that there's million crown reward on your head. More for _her_ ,” Duncan thrust his dagger in the air, right at Emma.

Killian breathed just a _tiny_ bit easier. If there was a reward for them, that meant that the Dark One didn't know precisely where they were. They could still make a run for it. All they needed was to get back to his ship. “Only a million? I'm worth twice that, surely.”

“Don't make this harder than it has to be, Killian.”

“Oh no, Duncan. It's going to hurt. A lot.” Killian sprang forward, sword flashing. Duncan parried it with his dagger, careening away just long enough to draw his own sword. Sparks flew as the swords clashed; Killian deflecting the oncoming dagger with his hook. Back and forth they went, their grunts and sharp cried filling the dimly lit alley. Killian was better, but Duncan was desperate, swinging wildly with little skill or finesse. Killian grunted as the steel dagger cut across his chest, tearing his shirt and vest, slicing the skin. It wasn't deep, just a nuisance, but it distracted him for a second too long. Killian saw the blow coming at his head too late—he tried to dodge—he was too slow—the blade was getting closer—

Then it was gone in a flash, the air around him swirling and charged. A sickening thud greeted his ears and Killian looked up; Duncan lay in a heap at the other end of the alley, limbs askew, head lolling, out cold. The wind died down and Killian looked around, knowing there was only one thing that could have caused it.

“Emma.”

She stood there, arms outstretched, breathing heavily. Her green eyes were wild with fury; Killian could have sworn he saw sparks surrounding her like a halo, an avenging angel rescuing him from his own carelessness.

Killian sheathed his sword and stepped slowly toward her, not wanting to frighten her. “Emma? Love? It's me. Killian.”

She blinked once, then twice, then her eyes locked with his. He could see the moment she _saw_ him, saw that he was perfectly safe. Her arms fell, her whole body seemed to go limp. Killian caught her just before she fell, exhausted.

* * *

“Smee!” Killian yelled. “Where the bloody hell are you?”

The round man came running around the corner. “Cap'n?” His eyes widened when he saw the state Emma was in. “What happened?”

“That is none of your concern. I want you to round up any stragglers and get us underway. _Now._ Can you handle that?”

Smee still looked bewildered, but he snapped to attention at Killian's authoritative tone. “Aye, sir! Right away, sir!”

Killian swept past his first mate as quickly as he could, considering he was still largely supporting Emma's weight. She was too heavy for him to carry now; they more or less crab walked from the alley back to the _Jolly._ Killian ruthlessly stamped down on the guilt and worry he felt—why the bloody hell had be brought her here? It seemed so selfish now—and tried to focus on Emma. It was obvious that whatever magic she had done had worn her out.

Gods above, he'd known she was powerful, but it was clear that she'd been holding back. Out of fear? Inexperience? Killian didn't know, but whatever it was it made her a force to be reckoned with. No wonder the Dark One was so eager to steal her powers.

Killian's frown deepened as he helped Emma into their quarters. It was awkward; she still wasn't very responsive and it was beginning to seriously worry him. He tossed the package onto the desk and laid her in their bunk, his hand smoothing over her brow. She murmured something he didn't quite catch, rolling onto her side, her nose nuzzling his hand. Killian pulled away briefly to pull off his heavy coat, draping it over her gently before sitting on the edge of the bunk. Emma seemed to crave his warmth, wrapping her body awkwardly around him, holding tightly to his hand. He tried to smile down at her, brushing the hair away from her face with his hook, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

It infuriated him that they couldn't seem to find any peace. This was supposed to be their honeymoon, a time for them to just _revel_ in their love and just _be_. But even here their troubles seemed to follow them. He thought about turning around, going back to the castle where there was no doubt that Emma would be safe, but he could already hear her voice in his head. She wouldn't want to give into fear and uncertainty. And there was the fact that their next destination was safe. Ariel had promised.

Killian just wanted some time free from worry about that bloody demon.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that; Emma dozed, Killian watched over her. Smee came to report that they were underway and to see about their new heading. Killian gave the order to head south, as fast as the _Jolly_ could go. He wanted to put as much distance between them and that place as they could. Then they could head for the place Ariel had spoken of; it was protected by her father, King Triton, not even the Dark One could get to them there.

He felt a jolt shoot down his spine; Emma's warm lips skimmed over his fingers. He looked down at her, her eyes fluttering open. “Hey,” she said softly.

Killian brushed the apple of her cheek with his knuckles. “Hey beautiful.”

“Did I fall asleep?”

“Aye. How do you feel? How's the little one?” He desperately wanted to ask her about what happened in the alley, but he bit it back. They would get to that in good time.

“Better.” Her hand drifted over her stomach. “He's fine too. I promise.” Her eyes raked over him, finally settling on his chest. “Does that hurt?”

“It's nothing, love. A scratch.”

“I don't like that he hurt you.”

“I'm fine, Emma. Honestly, I was more worried about you. I've had much worse than this.”

“You shouldn't of had to.”

“It was my fault, Emma. We shouldn't even have been there. Bloody selfish, it was.”

Emma moved to sit up, shaking her head emphatically. “Showing me where you come from isn't selfish, Killian. This is Rumplestiltskin's fault. Not yours.”

“But love...”

“No. Do you know how much it means to me that you would share that part of your past with me? I love you, Killian. A little skirmish isn't going to stop that.”

“A little skirmish where you nearly exhausted yourself with magic,” Killian said bitterly. He looked away from her, curling his fingers into a fist. It was his own carelessness that had led to _that_ , no matter what Emma said.

Emma scooted closer, cupping his face in her hands forcing him to look at her. “He was going to _kill_ you, Killian. There was no other choice for me to make. I'd do it again, a thousand times over.” She closed the distance between them and pressed her lips firmly to his. Then she leaned her forehead against his, so that their breath mingled. “I need you. Liam needs you. If you think I'm just going to stand by and not save your life, then you have another thing coming, pirate.”

This time Killian _did_ smile, combing his fingers through her blonde tresses. “I'd go crazy if anything ever happened to you, Emma. But you were bloody magnificent.”

“That's twice I've saved you now.”

“Aye, although I'd prefer we not make it a habit.”

“Puts quite crimp in your reputation, huh?”

“To be saved by a beautiful woman? I don't know about that.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. “I have to admit that you did scare me a bit though, love.”

Emma sighed, fingers threading through the hair at his nape. “I think _I_ scared me. I didn't know I could feel like that.”

“Like what?”

“I was just so...angry. Furious. This was supposed to be a break of all of...that. And here it was again. And you were fighting and I saw you get distracted and I just...reacted. I could _feel_ it, Killian. All that power. It just... _surged_ through me like a tidal wave. And it scared me.”

“Bloody wanker deserved it.”

“That's not the point. I didn't know I was capable of that, of anything _like_ that. Do you think it was...evil?”

Killian shook his head. “No. _No,_ love. Remember what Tinkerbell said? Your power is fueled by love, not hate. Since _I_ was bloody idiot who was in danger, you were protecting me. Thank you, Emma.”

Emma slid her hand down along his neck, to where his clothes were torn. “Hold still.”

“Emma...”

“Shhh.” She looked down at his chest, fingers skimming the gash. The pain had long since faded to a dull ache; in his concern about Emma, he had barely noticed it. It seemed to come back full force now, stinging under her gentle touch. He watched as her brow furrowed in concentration; Killian tried not to fidget. Her warm palm pressed to his skin and there was a soft glow where they touched. Killian could feel the warmth of the magic against his skin; sure enough when Emma pulled her hand back, the skin was perfect once more. “That's better.”

Killian cupped her cheek, bringing her eyes back to his. “I love you so much, Emma.”

“I know.” She gave him the barest hint of a smile, before she pulled him to her, kissing him hard. Killian was caught off guard by the intensity of her kiss, but recovered quickly, dragging her into his lap. The full weight of what happened seemed to settle over them all at once, and they got caught up in the undertow. Her hands were everywhere, tearing at his clothes, pulling the ruined fabric from his torso. Killian could feel sparks shooting over his bare skin where she touched him, and he groaned.

“Gods, Emma. Is that...?” It felt like magic, but she'd never brought it into their bedroom before.

“I think so,” she whispered, nails raking over his chest hair. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Don't you bloody dare,” he breathed, pulling at the laces of her dress. “This needs to come off. _Now._ ” His pants were painfully tight already; clearly using her magic on him was arousing. Between that and the lingering fear and adrenaline, he wasn't sure they could get their clothes off fast enough.

“Tear it,” Emma demanded. “I need to feel you, Killian. Please.”

He was going to ruin every piece of clothing she owned before they were through, he was sure of it. But this wasn't a time for finesse. His hook slashed through the muslin quickly, pulling it away from her body. Her shift was gone a moment later, the heavy linen ripped and ruined. Emma kissed him deeply then pushed Killian onto his back, moving to stand.

“Where are you going?” he demanded, but his irritation melted into a moan as her firm hand slid over the laces of his trousers. “Oh fuck.” He watched as she pressed her thumb along the ridge; his hips rolled into her touch automatically, needing more. She moved away abruptly, making him grunt in protest. She went on about wanting to feel him, then teased him. It was cruel. “Emma.”

“You're not naked yet, pirate.”

“Perhaps you should get on with that instead of being a bloody tease.”

“So you can have this?” she asked, magic crackling in her palm. Killian's mouth went dry, wondering, _hoping_ , that she would touch him like that. He desperately wanted to know what it would feel like.

“You started it, love.”

“So I did.” Emma pulled at his boots, getting them off in record time. She made equally quick work of his pants and brace, leaving him without a stitch. She stepped between his open legs, hands trailing up his thighs. “Do you like this?” she asked.

“Gods, yes. Don't stop.”

It felt _warm_ , like a roving spark just under the surface of his skin. It was almost as if her touch was magnified by a hundred, threatening to consume him. Why hadn't they done this before? It had honestly never occurred to him, but looking back, perhaps it should have.

She moved her hands over every place she could reach, every place but where he needed the most. His cock throbbed, want curling tightly in his stomach. “Emma. Please,” he begged, hips rocking of their own volition. He let out a strangled moan as she finally did as he asked, her hand wrapping firmly around him and stroking. The sensitive skin hummed and swelled; it felt like he was going to explode. _“Fuck,”_ he gasped. “ _Bloody hell, that feels incredible.”_

Emma let out a small whimper, her eyes nearly black. “Gods, so hot, Killian.”

Killian fisted the sheet, trying to maintain some kind of control. “Touch yourself, Emma. Want to hear you come.”

“I'm so wet,” she murmured, free hand slipping between her thighs. “Feels so good.”

“Come, then you can fuck me, darling.” She continued to stroke him; her touch nearly driving him _mad._ But he didn't want to come like this, as amazing as it felt. He wanted to be inside her, connected in the most intimate way possible. “Fuck, hurry, Emma.”

He felt her shudder a moment before she cried out, his name bouncing off the walls of the cabin. Killian bit his lip viciously, drawing blood, wrenching himself away from her touch. He couldn't come yet.

Emma leaned against the edge of the bunk, breathing heavily. Her green eyes were blown wide with unquenched lust; her skin almost seemed to glow with want. Killian beckoned his siren, needing her just as much as she needed him.

Emma scrambled up into the bunk, less graceful than she used to, but it hardly mattered. Killian pulled her into his arms, falling back against the mattress, lips fused together. They lay on their sides, kissing frantically, trying to devour each other. Killian couldn't imagine a time when he wouldn't want her like this, love and lust all mixed together in a heady feeling he never wanted to end.

“I need you in me, Killian,” Emma whimpered, nipping at his lip. “I need it so much.”

“Up you get, love,” he replied, rolling onto his back. “Take what you need.”

Emma moved faster than he expected, straddling him eagerly like she had so many times before. Before he could take another breath, she was sliding down onto him, her warm sheath stretching to accommodate him. Her hands pressed against his chest using it as leverage as she started to move, sensing as he did that this wouldn't last. Her magic radiated out from where she touched him, making everything feel that much _more._ Killian watched her, his moans mixing with her whimpers and curses as she rode him. She was the most incredible thing he'd ever seen.

“Fuck, I'm close, love,” he bit out. “So bloody close.” He knew he wouldn't last, but he hated leaving her unsatisfied.

Emma grabbed his hand and brought it to her clit, rubbing it furiously. In moments, Emma screamed, her walls tightening around him as she came a second time. Killian was right there with her, pulsing inside her, shouting brokenly.

“Oh gods,” Emma breathed, as aftershocks shook her trembling body.

Killian gently coaxed her down, stretching her out beside him in the narrow bunk. He kissed her forehead, still trying to recover himself. Being with her was be far the most intense thing he'd ever experienced; it always had been, but that was something else, even for them.

“Are you okay, love?” he asked, when he could breathe again.

“Mmhmm,” Emma hummed, snuggling as close to him as she could, something her growling belly was making more and more difficult.

“That was...”

“Yeah. It was.”

Killian trailed his hand over her drying skin. “How did I get you?” This seemed like so much more than he deserved.

Emma's eyes opened, the jade irises looked at him lovingly. “By loving me, Killian. That's all.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss her gently. The Dark One would have to try a lot harder if he was going to take her away from him.


	21. Chapter 21

Emma brought the steaming cup to her lips as she stared out at the horizon. The hot tea burned just a little as she took a sip, warming her all the way down to her toes, even though she wasn't cold. At least not physically. As the _Jolly Roger_ sailed closer to their new destination, the air got warmer, the breeze sweeping away the chill. They were headed south, to a place where they could spend a few weeks in peace. She hoped.

Regaining her peace of mind was another story. Emma was still shaken by what had occurred in the alley in White Haven. The sheer  _power_ she'd felt scared her witless. If she focused on it for too long, she could feel the magic crackle across her fingertips, almost a living, breathing thing.

What was someone like her supposed to  _do_ that kind of power?

Emma blew gently on her tea before taking another sip. She liked it here. Out at the very tip of the bow, with nothing by open sea in front of them, was Emma's favorite place on the ship. Well,  _technically_ , it was her second favorite place, but she'd decided that the captain's quarters didn't count. She liked to come out here to think, to watch the waves rise and swell, crashing against the hull of the ship as they cut through them like a knife. The  _Jolly_ was making good time, her enchanted wood doing...whatever it did to increase their speed. Killian assured her that they would be within the confines of Ariel's father's kingdom by nightfall.

Emma was relieved that they weren't going back home. She wasn't ready to face more of their harsh reality just yet. When they returned, it was likely they wouldn't be able to leave the castle grounds; her parents would double the guards and take all sorts of precautions. The fact that the Dark One was still after her, couldn't just let them  _be_ , made her unbelievably angry. 

She refused to raise her son in an environment of fear.

But first, she just wanted to pretend for a little while longer.

“Will the seas be kind to us today, my love?” Killian said quietly, wrapping his arms around her waist, his hand resting protectively over her stomach.

In spite of her worried thoughts, she smiled. “I think so. Looks like it will be a good day.”

Killian rested his chin on her shoulder. “Aye. Mr. Smee tells me we've drawn an escort.”

“An escort?” Emma asked, unable to keep the apprehension out of her voice.

“Look up.” She did, seeing the small flock of seagulls flying in the same direction they were. Before she could ask, Killian said, “Those are black tailed gulls. Have an affinity for merpeople.”

“Ariel?”

“Probably. Or her father, assuming she informed the King we were coming.”

“I met him once. When I was little. Eight, maybe? Scared the shit out of me.”

“Let us hope his demeanor has improved with time.”

“I don't think he meant to be frightening. But he was _big_ , even with the tail. And that trident was very pointy.”

Killian chuckled. “I can imagine. None of the merpeople I've encountered were the friendly sort. Except Ariel.”

“If the gulls are leading us, then I'm sure it's okay,” Emma said with more confidence than she felt. “Ariel's our friend.”

“She and Eric certainly seem trustworthy. And very insistent too. Wouldn't take no for an answer when they suggested this visit.”

“You were going to turn them down?”

Killian kissed her temple. “Old habits die hard, love.”

“I love you for trying.” She tore her eyes from the sea and turned in his arms. His blue eyes looked down at her with such love, it made her breath catch. No matter what they had been through seeing that look in his eyes made everything worth it. She leaned up and kissed his jaw before resting her head on his chest.

His arms tightened around her, hand rubbing soothing circles into her back. “Anything for you, Emma.”

* * *

 

Emma heard the commotion out on deck, the frantic sound of pounding footsteps waking her up. Killian insisted she rest, that there wasn't anything she could do until they made landfall. She agreed on the condition that he read to her for a little while in their cabin. The gentle lilt of his voice lulled her into a deep sleep, even though she wanted to listen to him. She'd  _missed_ moments like that when they were at her parent's castle; it felt like those times before they'd discovered the Dark One's nefarious plot, when it was just them and how they felt about one another. The simplicity of their life at sea was one Emma would mourn for a long time, even though she was happy about her impending motherhood.

Emma swung her feet over the edge of the bunk and tried to bend down for her shoes. Simple things like bending were getting more difficult every day as her girth increased. Logically, she knew it would only get worse, but she was still annoyed about it. She'd gotten used to dealing with things on her own in the months since she left home.

“Here, let me,” Killian said, looking windblown but excited when he came in the room. He was kneeling in front of her in a blink, reaching for her discarded shoes.

“I can get my own shoes, you know,” Emma groused.

“I know, love.” He slid one onto her foot. “But you're going to have to get used to me helping you.”

“You're going to spoil me rotten, aren't you?”

“As your husband and father of our child, I do believe that is my right,” he replied with a grin.

“Be careful, once you start, I might not want you to stop.”

“Who said anything about stopping?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Emma smacked him lightly on the shoulder. Killian just laughed, sliding the other shoe into place. “There. Now you're ready to be reintroduced to the King.”

Emma inhaled sharply. “What? He's here?” She just woke up, she probably had awful bed hair, her dress would be wrinkled. “Are you  _mad_ ?”

“I assure you, I am not. And relax, darling. You are stunning, as always.”

Emma glared. “You need to have your eyesight examined, Captain.”

Killian grabbed the small mirror off his desk and handed it to her. “See for yourself.”

Emma looked in the mirror and saw her reflection. Her hair was a little frizzy, but a few strokes of a brush would fix that. Her clothes were fine. Her eyes were wide and alert, the panic fading as she stared. Damn mood swings. It was probably the thing she liked  _least_ about being pregnant. “Okay, okay. I overreacted.” She handed Killian back the mirror and snatched up her brush. In moments, her hair was restored.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“You're with child, love. I think I can handle you shouting at me for ridiculous things every now and again. It's a small price to pay.”

“I didn't shout!”

“At least you're not throwing things at me.”

Emma couldn't help it; she laughed. Deep belly laughs that warmed her all the way to her toes. “Please don't let me do that,” she managed to say. “I wouldn't want to hurt that handsome face.”

“Too right.” But he was smiling. He rested his hand on her rounded stomach, rubbing gently. “You're already causing quite the stir around here, little one,” he said fondly. “You'll be a handful for sure.”

“Well, he is a Jones,” Emma said, covering his hand with hers. Then her brow furrowed as she _felt_ something. Right where Killian's hand rested. She felt a flutter. 

“Love, what is it?”

“Did you feel that?” she asked, excitement tinging her voice.

“Feel what?”

“I think...” She felt it again, a tiny flutter. “I think I just felt the baby move.”

“Emma, are you _sure_?” She could hear the _hope_ in his voice, the awe. And it broke her heart. Her pirate had been so hopeless for so long, he was still afraid that all of this could be taken away. As his mother was taken. As his brother was taken.

Emma pressed his hand more firmly against her stomach. “I'm positive. Maybe he'll do it again.” Gods, she hoped so. She didn't realize until this precise moment how much this meant to her. To have Killian here for all of these moments. To see the look in his eyes as their baby made his presence known at last. And she nearly lost him, nearly came painfully close to losing the love of her life, father of her son. Emma had to blink back back tears, the emotion of the moment almost too much for her.

“Don't cry, love,” Killian whispered, kissing away the tears that escaped. “I'm right here... _oh!_ Did you feel that?”

Emma smiled wetly, nodding. “I did. I think he knows it's you.”

Now Killian's gorgeous blue eyes were welling up, as he leaned forward and brushed a kiss to her lips. Then he knelt down in front of her, and replaced his hand on her stomach. “You're a smart one, aren't you, Liam?” he said, kissing her stomach. “Already know your papa. I love you so much, little one.”

Emma ran her fingers through Killian's dark hair, grinning as he babbled nonsense to their son, pure joy written all over his face. Her heart ached with how much she absolutely adored him. Perhaps letting him spoil her rotten wasn't so bad, after all.

The milestone with Liam made them painfully late for meeting King Triton, but Emma was damned if she cared. The moment of feeling her son move for the first time, sharing it with Killian, was safely tucked away in her heart. No one was taking it away from her.

“Apologies, Highness,” Killian said, as they leaned over the rail. Triton hovered next to the _Jolly Roger_ 's hull looking annoyed. His weathered face softened as soon as he saw Emma.

“It's quite alright, Captain,” Triton said gruffly, his deep voice just as Emma remembered. Only this time she wasn't afraid. “Your lovely bride must come first. My daughter sends her greetings, your highness.” He looked at Emma, smiling.

“You must tell Ariel that we are very grateful for her offer,” Emma replied, her hand tight on the rail. “This trip has been much more...exciting than we would like.”

“Rest assured that no harm will come to any of you as long as you are within my realm. The Dark One would never dare come here.” The King tightened his grip on his trident. “And you are welcome to stay as long as you wish.”

“Thank you, but we wouldn't dare trespass on your hospitality for longer than a week or two.”

Triton looked at Emma more closely, his eyes widening with recognition. “Yes, I see. How long?”

Emma blushed. She'd forgotten how forward the King was. “About five months, your highness,” Killian said, covering her hand with his.

“Yes, it will be important to get back to your own people soon. Or so my daughter tells me.” It occurred to her that merpeople and regular people could be...different in that regard. Did Ariel and Eric have children? She couldn't remember. She'd ask her mother when they got home. Triton threw a sand dollar up to her, Emma caught it in her free hand. “Throw that back into the ocean should you need me,” Triton said seriously. Then he nodded curtly and dove back into the ocean, tail splashing in the water.

“Odd fellow, isn't he?” Killian said as they stepped back from the rail.

“I think it was the mention of Ariel and children,” Emma said quietly. “I wonder why?”

“Perhaps merpeople and humans can't have children?” Killian suggested.

“That would be sad.” She couldn't imagine someone as kindhearted as Ariel not having a child of her own.

“It wouldn't matter to me,” he replied. “If I could only have _you_ , that would be enough.”

Emma ran her hand over her stomach. “I'm glad that we have him though. I couldn't imagine my life without either of you.”

“Everything will work out, love.” he said firmly, as if sensing where her thoughts were headed. “Our family will stay together, I promise you. Then we'll see about getting Liam some brothers and sisters, yeah?”

Emma smiled. “Yeah.”

* * *

The _Jolly_ anchored offshore while they took one of the boats to the nearby island. It looked like one of the pictures in Emma's books when she was a child; it was so _green_ and vibrant with lots of tropical flowers she'd only ever seen in paintings. There was a modest sized dwelling back away from the beach filled with food and linens; the bedroom had a balcony that had a spectacular view of the glittering ocean.

“This is...wow,” Emma said, running her fingers over the railing of the balcony.

“Aye, Ariel said it would be. It was a gift from Eric on their marriage.”

“She told you that?”

Killian shrugged. “He wanted her to have a way to be close to her family whenever she wanted.”

In all the time she'd known Ariel, she'd never truly considered everything that the mermaid had given up to be with the one she loved. No longer being a mermaid meant that she couldn't be with her family again. She remembered Triton's eyes. Did that mean giving up a family of her own as well? The thought made Emma's heart hurt. Killian had given up his life at sea for Emma, to raise their son together. Her eyes drifted to the _Jolly,_ their very first home together, that Emma insisted he keep, so that he'd always have that connection.

Just like Eric had for Ariel.

“What are you thinking about, love?”

Emma looked up at him, giving him a noncommittal shrug. “How much I love you,” she said, something that wasn't completely a lie.

“That's a train of thought I would very much be interested in,” he replied with a smirk, pulling her in for a kiss.

It didn't take them long to fall into a routine. It really did seem that they had finally found some peace amidst all the chaos. The only people other than each other that they saw were crew from the _Jolly Roger_ , stopping by occasionally with reports on the sea conditions and how much rations they had left, important in case they had to leave at a moment's notice. Emma kept insisting she was fine, but Killian insisted.

Every day, he showered her with attention and pampered her endlessly. She thought he'd been attentive _before_ Liam had really started moving around; he'd been going easy on her apparently. He hardly allowed her to lift a finger, fetching things for her, rubbing her back and feet, reading to Liam every chance he got. The fearless and indomitable Captain Hook was turning into puppy right before her eyes. That was until she looked at him a certain way, or did some little feat of magic, then her pirate was back with her, making her toes curl in pleasure.

The magic thing was fascinating to her. Ever since she'd used it on him on the _Jolly_ , he seemed more interested in it than ever. With his enthusiasm and support, she was becoming more daring with it, trying new things every day. The incident in the alley had frightened her, made her realize just how powerful she could be. It was important to test her limits, to finally see what she could _really_ do.

“I tell you, I can think of many a time where this magic of yours would have come in very handy,” he said one evening as they waked along the beach. They were barefoot, letting the warm sand slip between their toes.

Emma gasped in mock shock. “Using my magic for selfish gain, Captain?”

He grinned at her, unapologetic. “Aye. I _am_ a pirate, love.”

“Well, it's not like I can complain. I use it for selfish ends all the time.”

“You do?”

Emma touched her hand to his shirtsleeve; the material vanished, leaving him bare from the waist up. “That's much better.”

“That's cheating!” he cried in mock indignation.

Emma shrugged. “Married a pirate, remember?” Then she took off down the beach, skirt held high so she wouldn't trip. Her balance was more precarious than it used to be, but she knew she wouldn't fall. Killian would catch her. She heard him growl and give chase, catching her around the waist.

“You are being very naughty today, princess.”

“Enough to merit some punishment?” she asked, her fingers playing over his chest, little sparks of magic jumping between them. She grinned when she felt him stiffen.

Killian's blue eyes widened then darkened, catching on to her intent. “Perhaps not,” he said. “You were right, this is much better.” He let go of her, brushing some of her hair back with his hook. “Nice try though.”

Emma pretended to glare at him, letting her magic warm up just a bit. She kept touching him, knowing that  _ eventually _ she would get her way. Besides, she  _ loved _ touching him, feeling the muscles ripple and flex under her touch, feeling how warm his skin was as she explored the contours of his incredible body. “That's too bad,” she said finally. “I like being naughty.”

“Do you now?” His breathing hitched as her hands slid lower, toward the waistband of his pants. “Do you  _ want _ to be punished, princess?”

It had been so long since they'd done anything like that; suddenly, she  _ wanted _ it fiercely. She wanted to feel his hand on her, showing her that fine edge between pleasure and pain. This might be their last chance before the baby was born. Emma looked up at him with pleading eyes. “I do.”

Killian growled, his hand cradling the back of her head as he brought his lips to hers. He kissed her deeply, hooked arm sliding around her waist, bringing her as close as he could. Emma moaned into it, her tongue sliding together with his as she stood on her toes, trying to get even closer. Her skin burned where they touched; his missing shirt giving them more skin to skin contact than usual. She clung to his biceps, nails making little indentations on his skin.

“Bed,” Killian breathed against her lips.

“Mmhmm,” Emma agreed. “Let me.” She held onto him and focused, willing them into their bedroom. A swirl of white smoke later, the sea smell was fainter and there was solid wood underneath their feet.

Killian looked around, then down at her, his eyes huge. “You are a bloody marvel,” he said in awe.

“And I want  _ you _ .”

“I shall endeavor to please.” He kissed her again, pulling on the laces of her dress. Heat pooled her stomach, anticipating his hand and mouth on her bare skin. She let him strip her, savoring every small brush of their skin, like licks of fire. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, nipping at her lobe. “Always.”

Emma reached out for one of the four posters, curling her fingers tightly around it for support. Killian knew just how to touch her, his hand and hook sliding over her curves, fingers kneading the skin. Her head fell back as he licked at her nipple, teasing it into a painful point. She was so sensitive, every touch going straight to her clit; it ached painfully. “Killian...”

He shook his head. “Not yet.” His lips left a wet trail of kisses along her throat, hand sliding over her flank and squeezing her ass. “Not until I've tasted you.”

“Oh gods.”

She was already trembling, heat flooding her. Emma leaned back against the post as Killian knelt in front of her. She watched with hooded eyes as he kissed his way up her leg, gently lifting her foot and and resting her leg on his shoulder. Instinctively, Emma reached back for the post, holding onto it tightly, gasping as Killian licked a stripe through her damp flesh.

“Fuck, you are  _ soaked _ , lass,” he muttered against her core, warm breath tickling her skin. His nose brushed her clit as he worked her over, mouth hot on her flesh, tongue teasing her entrance. She writhed above him, trusting him to support her as her remaining leg shook. Her cries of pleasure filled the room, as her peak coiled tightly in her stomach. He sucked her clit into his mouth, teeth scraping, bringing her so very close to the edge...then pulled away just before she reached it.

Emma howled in frustration, her body drenched in sweat. Below her, Killian just laughed. “You  _ did _ ask to be punished, love,” he reminded her, kissing the inside of her thigh.

“Oh fuck.” If that was part of her punishment, then she knew she would enjoy the rest.

“Soon.” Killian let her leg down, kneeling there until he was sure she had her feet back under her. Emma took gulpfuls of air, trying to regain at least some of her equilibrium before they continued. When her trembles subsided, Killian patted her calf lightly. “Bend over the bed, princess.”

Emma inhaled sharply as she did what he asked, most of her upper body resting on the bed, her ass raised high in the air, in perfect position for a spanking.

“Gods, I wish we had our mirror for this,” Killian said in a low voice as he stood. He ran his hand over the swell of her ass, giving her another little squeeze. “You'd like that, wouldn't you, love?”

“Yes.” She tried to stay relaxed, not knowing when the first strike would come. That was part of the thrill. She squirmed a little, the anticipation getting to her. She gasped when it came, a hard stinging slap, the momentary pain blooming into warm pleasure that settled at the apex of her thighs. There were two more in quick succession, as Emma clawed at the sheets, half sobbing in pleasure.

Killian soothed her stinging flesh with his hand, a growl in his throat. “Such a naughty, dirty girl, Emma.” He spanked her again, never hitting the exact same place twice. She was sure her ass would be a rosy pink by the time he was finished with her. She pushed back against his hand, eager for more. There was a longer pause than she expected, punctuated by Killian's sigh of relief. Emma peaked over her shoulder and saw his pants open, hard cock jutting out, his warm hand wrapped around it stroking.

Emma wasn't even embarrassed about the needy sound that tumbled from her lips; watching Killian pleasure himself was one of her many weaknesses. He caught her eye and smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Bastard,” she breathed.

“I'll have you soon, love. Very soon.” He bent down and kissed between her shoulder blades. The tender kiss contrasted with the hard slap of his hand on her ass again, just as the stinging was subsiding. Warmth flooded her, wetness coating her thighs as he spanked her. Emma fisted the sheet so tightly it tore in her hands. Gods, it felt  _ so _ good; she felt wanton and free, desperate for release.

The blows stopped as abruptly as they began, replaced by Killian's cool hook soothing the sting. “Such a lovely pink arse,” Killian mumbled, stepping out of her field of vision. “I do love spanking you, princess.”

“Killian, please,” Emma pleaded, her body taut and aching. “I need you.” She felt his cock rub over the crease of her ass, sliding down, down, down to where she was dripping with need. The head of his thick cock pressed against her entrance, sliding in oh so very slowly.  _ “Yes.” _

“Fuck,” Killian breathed, once he was fully sheathed inside her. “So tight. Feels fucking incredible.” He pulled back slowly, dragging along her walls, taking her with slow deep strokes. He showered her with praise, telling her how good she felt, how much he loved fucking her, the things she let him do to her, that she was perfect for him.

Emma felt like she was melting from the inside out; the heat and tension slowly driving her mad. She never wanted it to end, but if she didn't come soon, she might well and truly lose her mind.  _ “Faster,” _ she begged, her own voice a choked sob. “ _ Fuck, I need to come!” _

Killian didn't hesitate, obeying her without a word, hand and hook holding firmly to her hips. “Let go, Emma.”

Her vision went hazy as she sobbed her release, her cries muffled by the blankets and mattress. Wave and wave struck her, coming from deep within her, until she was spent. A few more deep thrusts and Killian followed her, pulsing deep inside her as she milked him dry. Emma groaned when she felt him lean over her back; her knees were barely holding her up as it was. But it only lasted a moment; Killian managed to stand long enough to help her into the bed, both of them panting.

As soon as he was beside her, Emma curled into him on his good side, head on his chest. She could hear his heart thumping heavily in his chest and it made her smile.

Killian caught her and shook his head, still catching his breath. “Enjoy your punishment, lass?”

Her smile got bigger. “Definitely.”

He stroked her temple with his thumb. “I love you, Emma.”

“I love you too, Killian.”

* * *

“Ready to go home, lass?”

Emma looked up from her reading—she was reading her favorite of Killian's collection, _A Pirate's Life—_ and frowned. “Are we back already?”

“'Fraid so, love.” They'd been gone for over a month; Ariel's retreat was too peaceful for them to tear themselves away. But as Liam got more active, Killian finally insisted they head back. She hated him a bit for being the practical one. “We should be docking within the hour.”

“Okay.” She started to get up; it took more effort than she expected. Perhaps she'd been sitting longer than she thought.

“Alright there, lass?”

“Yeah. Still getting used to being like...this,” she said, gesturing to her stomach. She was roughly six months along now and she was really starting to feel it. Her joints hurt, her back hurt, her ankles were starting to swell. She was feeling large and unwieldy and _off_ and she wasn't sure she liked it very much.

“The little one causing you any grief?”

Emma laughed hollowly. “No, it's not him. It's me. I just don't _feel_ much like _me_ anymore. But I'll be okay.”

Killian gathered her in a sideways hug, brushing a kiss to her temple. “You're still my princess, Emma. Never doubt that.”

She squeezed his waist, thankful for his words. “Let's go home.”

They'd hardly entered the castle when her parents descended on them. Snow fussed over them, asking more questions than Emma could possibly answer, as she needed to breathe. David clapped Killian on the back, looking relieved that they made it back, safe and whole.

“Oh, we've got such a surprise for you!” Snow announced excitedly. “But first, let's have some lunch and you can tell us all about your trip!”

“Not _everything_ ,” Killian muttered, looking sideways at Emma. She had to smother a laugh, knowing very well that a good portion of their trip would remain private.

They gathered in Snow's solar, a small feast brought in by the kitchens. Emma was surprised her mother allowed them to eat in peace for as long as they did, making small talk, getting caught up on the events in the castle while they were away.

“We've had a letter from Philip,” her father said, spearing a small roasted potato on his fork. “Mulan's been sentenced.”

“To what?” Emma asked.

“Life imprisonment,” her mother said sadly.

“Oh.” She wasn't sure what else she expected, under the circumstances she should be relieved. Instead, she was just sad.

“It's all so sad,” Snow said, echoing Emma's thoughts.

“But would any of us have done any differently?” Killian asked.

David frowned. “I'm not sure I follow.”

“Surely you noticed, mate.”

“Noticed what?”

“That Mulan is in love with Aurora,” Emma said, as if it were obvious. “That's why she did it.”

“I did,” Snow said. “I noticed. And I think Aurora knew. Not about Rumplestiltskin, but about Mulan.”

“But Philip woke her with True Love's Kiss!”

“It was only _after_ he woke her than she met Mulan. Mulan was there, David. She'd become traveling companions with Philip on his quest to find Aurora.” Snow put down her spoon. “I don't doubt that Aurora loves Philip. But I think part of her is drawn to Mulan. She looked devastated when Mulan admitted the truth. It's just one of the many reasons we have to stop Rumplestiltskin. So he can't exploit people like that any longer.”

Emma shared a look with Killian. As much as she didn't want to discuss it, this was probably the best moment to bring up what happened in White Haven. Killian slid his hand over hers, nodding encouragingly. “About Rumplestiltskin...”

“What happened?” David asked instantly. “I thought you said you were fine!”

“We _are_ fine, Papa,” Emma said patiently. “But we did have a bit more adventure than we bargained for.” Slowly, she told the tale, not really getting into the more personal parts of Killian's home. That was his story to tell. But they imparted everything they remembered about Duncan and the price on their heads and Rumplestiltskin's determination to see his madness through.

“I can't believe they _attacked_ you,” David said, looking thunderous.

“Emma was bloody brilliant,” Killian said proudly. “I don't think ole Duncan got up for a week. Not that we stayed to find out.”

“Are you alright, Emma?” Snow asked, frowning.

“Yeah, I'm fine. It was just...an intense experience.” What she really wanted was to speak to Tinkerbell about it, but that would have to wait.

“Well, you're home now,” David said firmly. “That monster can't get to you here.”

The conversation moved on to more pleasant topics, as no one wanted to delve deeply into the crazed mindset of the Dark One. Emma still had no idea how she was supposed to defeat him, but as Liam kicked at her stomach, she knew that eventually she would have to find a way.

“So what is this surprise, highness?” Killian asked as lunch was cleared away.

Snow beamed at them. “Hopefully, this won't seem too presumptuous on my part, but I thought since you were gone for so long, that you wouldn't mind if I gave you a bit of a head start.

“A head start on what?” Emma asked, cocking her head curiously.

“I may have had the dwarves start on Liam's nursery.”

“Oh!”

“Would you like to see it? And if there's anything you don't like, we can still change it,” Snow said hurriedly.

It sounded a bit more than a “head start” to Emma, but she didn't argue. The fact was they had put it off dangerously long, so she was grateful for her mother's initiative. Killian held her close as they trooped through the corridors, allowing her to lean on him without being obvious about it. She was getting used to _this_ , used to always having him close, ready to do whatever she needed at a moment's notice. She was going to be so spoiled by the time Liam was born.

But she secretly cherished every single moment.

“I thought the rooms next to yours would be best,” Snow said, cutting through her thoughts. “Gepetto is working on a smaller crib for right after the birth so you can keep Liam with you those first few weeks.”

Another thing Emma would never have thought of. She was so grateful to have her mother here for this time in her life. She would have been completely lost.

“Here it is!” Snow and David pushed open the doors and stood aside.

Emma and Killian stepped inside, looking at each other in amazement. It was beautiful. The walls were painted a soft blue, textured to look like waves on the ocean. The balcony opened up—like theirs did—to the harbor, where the _Jolly Roger_ was docked, her masts tall against the sky. There were shelves of toys, a wooden rocking chair, another bigger leather chair, blankets and clothes...it was overwhelming. Right in the center was Emma's crib, freshly painted, with a new mobile hanging from it. Instead of unicorns, Liam's mobile was ships, some with sails emblazoned with the royal crest and some with the skull and crossbones of a pirate. The blanket Granny knitted lay inside the crib, just waiting for its owner.

Emma felt Liam kick at her stomach again, as if sensing his mother's excitement. She grabbed Killian's hand and placed it on her stomach, grinning. Killian laughed. “I think he likes it,” he said, thumb rubbing over the fabric of her dress. “What do you think, love?”

“I think you're right.”

* * *

“There you are,” Killian said, exasperated. “I've been looking all over for you.”

Emma looked up from her perch in Liam's rocking chair. “Sorry. I just came up here to think.”

“I could have come with you.”

“It's okay. I could see you from here.” Killian had been down at the _Jolly_ directing his crew to put the beloved ship into winter quarters. No more adventures for a while. As much as she understood the necessity, the reality made her sad. She loved that ship and the times they'd spent on it. She could only imagine how much Killian missed it.

“How are you feeling?” He always asked that, wanting the unvarnished truth about every aspect of her condition.

“I'm okay. Really,” she said, when he raised a skeptical brow. “My feet don't even hurt!”

“I trust you, love.” He kissed the corner of her mouth before sitting on the floor in front of her. She spread her legs so he could lean back, giving her unfettered access to his dark locks. He hummed pleasantly as she obediently tangled her fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp, loving the feel of the soft thick strands through her fingers.

It was quiet, peaceful, something they wouldn't have for too much longer.

“Killian?”

“Yes, love?”

“Do you have any regrets?”

He thought for a moment. “In my life? Aye. I have many a regret.” Then he turned and looked at her. “Since I met you? Not a single one.”

“But you've turned your life completely upside down for me. You could still be on the _Jolly_ right now if it weren't for me.”

“Aye, I could. But I wouldn't be happy. Not _truly_ happy.” Killian got up on his knees and faced her so that they were eye level. “I didn't understand what happiness _was_ until that day I met you. But I knew the moment I lost it, when we missed each other. And I tried to go back to who I was before and I couldn't. You were in my blood, Emma. I could never be happy without you.”

“I _know_ that,” Emma said, cupping his cheek with his hand. “I do. I don't know why I keep asking.”

“Because we're both terrified that it won't last,” he said, kissing her palm. “That this evil will be something we can't defeat. But we _can._ ”

“How do you know?”

“I believe it,” he said simply. “Right here.” He pressed her hand to his heart. “This is the greatest thing I have ever felt in my life, Emma. And I'm not letting _anyone_ take it from me without a fight.”

“I won't either. I promise.” She pulled him in for a kiss, his lips soft with just a hint of salt. She'd finally found exactly where she was supposed to be.


	22. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter. I'm planning on doing a sequel to this, so never fear! I love writing this version of Killian and Emma. :)

“Emma, love, _what_ are you doing?”

Killian swore he'd only left her for a few moments, intending to fetch her shawl. It was March, but the castle was still a bit cool. The full weight of spring had not quite arrived. By the time he returned, Emma was standing precariously on a stool, reaching for a book near the top of their tall bookcase. It was precarious, of course, because his beautiful wife was nine months pregnant and due to give birth any day now.

“Getting a book, what does it look like I'm doing?”

“How did you even get up there?” He moved to stand behind her to catch her if she fell.

“By walking, silly. Killian, I'm pregnant, not an invalid.”

“But you know what the midwife said.”

“That I should rest as much as possible? Yeah, I heard her.” Emma climbed down, Killian catching her elbow to steady her. “I'm so _tired_ of just laying around here waiting for your son to show up.”

“So now he's _my_ son?” Killian said with a laugh. “I seem to remember you being quite an active participant in the creation of our boy.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You should remember that when I start cursing at you for doing this to me.”

“I'll be sure to keep that in mind.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, wishing he could do more for her. The last few months since their honeymoon had been hard on her, since they couldn't really leave the castle grounds, not with the price on their heads. Like him, she hated being cooped up. But they had each other and that was what mattered. Keeping Emma and little Liam safe was Killian's only priority. “Would you like me to read to you?”

“Yes, please.”

She handed him the book and he laughed. “Again? One would think you had this memorized by now.”

“But I like listening to you read it. Please?” She looked up at him with those siren's eyes and he was helpless to resist her. If she asked for the moon, he'd find a way to get it for her.

“Very well, love. Just promise me you'll take it easy the rest of the day?”

“Done.”

They settled on the couch, Emma resting her head on his shoulder. Killian opened the book carefully, mindful of the delicate pages. His eyes flickered over the page of dedications, the passage through generations of his family. And now they would be able to pass the little book of poems to their own son, to be given to his lady love.

How could so much have changed in only a year?

One year ago, Killian had been a pirate, indeed Captain Hook was the most feared pirate in all the realms. Captured, sentenced to death, which hardly seemed to matter when the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen crossed his path. Even more fantastical, was that  _she_ was just as enamored with him as he was with her. It was like they were drawn together by some invisible force. Emma brought out emotions and desires Killian had long thought dead. Suddenly, the most important thing in his life wasn't treasure or rum or women. His greatest joy came in making her happy, in putting a smile of her pretty face. Seeing the way her eyes lit up whenever he walked into the room, feeling the warmth and love in her touch was his very life blood.

He had been cold for so long.

Now he had True Love. A gorgeous, courageous wife. A son on the way. What would Liam think of his little brother now?

“Hey, are you okay?” Emma asked.

Killian smiled, closing the book. “Aye, love. Just thinking.”

“Care to share?”

“I was just wondering what my brother would think about all this.”

“He'd be proud of you, Killian.”

“You think so? I've not exactly been a good boy, love.”

“If you weren't a pirate, we might not ever have met.”

Killian smirked. “He'd have liked you, Liam. I probably would have had to fight him for you or some such nonsense.”

“It's not a fight if I know who I want.”

“And you'd have gone for the younger, more dashing of the Jones boys?”

“I'm sure Liam had many good qualities. But I'm meant to be with _you_. I believe that. If this adventure has taught me anything, it's that _we_ are meant to be. In this world, or any other, it's supposed to be Killian and Emma.”

He looked down at her, his love for her tightening his throat. He didn't know what would become of him without her. Like she said,  _ they _ were meant to be, two halves made whole. He cupped her cheek tenderly, leaning down to kiss her. Emma sighed softly, her hand curling behind his neck to pull him closer.

They kissed slowly, sweetly, like they had all the time in the world. Her swollen belly made if difficult for them to get as close as they once did, so Killian guided them to stretch out on the large couch, until they lay on their sides facing each other. Emma threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling his lips to hers, her kiss a little more insistent. He loved kissing her, had from the first moment their lips touched; she tasted of sunshine and cinnamon, her lips soft and sweet.

“Killian...”

“Shhh, I'm right here, love.” He combed his fingers through her golden hair, cradling her head in his palm as he kissed her. He could feel his desire for her build, but he ignored it. This wasn't about him. All he wanted was to make Emma feel as loved and adored as possible. He made no move to touch her more intimately, knowing there wasn't anything they could do about it, even if they wanted to.

Emma seemed to have no such qualms. Her hands wandered over him, pawing at his clothes. “I miss you,” she mumbled against his lips, cupping his cheek. “You're right here, but I _miss_ you.”

“Oh, love.” Killian kissed her again, letting a bit more of his barely restrained passion seep into it. He'd never felt about anyone the way he felt about her. If they were in the same room, they were almost always touching, always sought each other out. It felt like their love for one another was a tangible thing, felt most strongly whenever they touched. It was all consuming and burning just as brightly as it had from the beginning.

“Promise me something, Killian,” Emma breathed, her fingers dancing under his shirt.

“Anything,” he swore, leaning into her touch, his skin tingling with her magic. How was he supposed to resist her when she wasn't playing fair?

“After...promise me we'll have this. Even if all I can do is kiss you, please just give me this.”

Killian raised his hand to her face, stilling her so he could look into her eyes. “I promise, Emma. We won't lose this.” They wouldn't lose what made them...them. Even with the addition to their family. Killian wouldn't let that happen.

Emma smiled happily. “I love you so much, Killian.”

“And I love you, Emma.” Their lips met in kiss, which Emma deepened almost immediately. She tangled her tongue with his, hands fisting his shirt. His body couldn't help but react, his pants constricting and hot. “Sweetheart...”

“Let me do this for you,” she said earnestly. “I want to.”

Gods, it was so selfish to want her to touch him, to bring him pleasure when he couldn't reciprocate. But the midwife had finally banned them from having sex so close to Emma's time. Emma had accepted the edict with poor grace, her frustration evident. It would be weeks if not months until he could have her again; it was something he tried not to think about, knowing their son was more important.

Emma's hand slid over his stomach, her magic doing wicked things to him. “Please.”

Killian groaned, instinctively leaning into her touch. “Very well,” he breathed, pressing kisses to her lips. “Gods, that feels good.”

Emma tugged on his shirt, and he helped her get it off. It was awkward with her swollen belly, but she slid down the couch, pressing kisses to his skin, leaving a wet trail in her wake. “I love touching you, Killian.” Her fingers traced the peaks and valleys of his torso, the warmth of her magic seeping into his skin. He felt it deep in his bones, the love she had for him shining through.

“Don't stop,” he whispered, hips rocking off the couch.

Emma climbed off the couch and leaned over him, deftly unlacing his pants. He helped her slide them down over his hips giving access to what she wanted. Emma kissed his hipbone, taking his straining cock into her hand and stroking lightly. He could feel her magic there, tingling just under the surface, just enough to tease him. Killian moaned her name, eyes falling closed as he gave into the sensations.

“I love how you feel in my hand,” she said quietly, her voice husky with want. “Smooth and warm.” Her hand gripped him a bit tighter, moving up and down his length, her other hand reaching down to fondle his balls. Killian hissed at the contact, pure need shooting through his veins. “Do you like this?”

“Gods, yes,” he gasped, rolling his hips. “More.”

Emma rose up on her knees and leaned over the couch, circling the head of his cock with her warm tongue. Killian's hips bucked off the couch, not expecting the touch, a growl on his lips. “Fuck, Emma.”

She hummed in response, taking the tip of him into her mouth, sucking lightly. Killian was suffused in bliss, the sensation of having her warm perfect mouth on him almost too much. But he needed this to last, not knowing when they would have such pleasures again. He looked down at her, mouth and hands working him, playing with him, touching him in every way she knew to make him crazy. She was so beautiful.

“Emma...fuck, love.” He could feel his release building, too powerful for him to stop. “I'm gonna come,” he warned, his voice cracking. Emma hollowed out her cheeks, sucking on him greedily as he cried out, his body going rigid as he came. Emma lapped at him, licking every drop. He panted harshly as she finally released him, rocking back on her haunches and wiping at her mouth.

“Feel better?”

Killian sighed, groping awkwardly for her hand. “Aye. Thank you, my love.”

“You shouldn't have to suffer because of me.”

Killian laughed hollowly. “You're carrying our son, Emma. You shouldn't even be worrying about me.”

“But I do. I miss the way things used to be,” she admitted.

“It's only for a little while longer, darling. Liam will be here and we'll adjust. We'll find time for each other.”

“My parents didn't have anymore children,” Emma pointed out.

“You've seen your parents, love. Do you really think it wasn't for lack of effort?”

Emma made a face. “Oh, ew. I so don't want to think about that.”

“I'll admit we might want to take more precautions after Liam's born. Just until...certain things are dealt with.” He didn't want to say Rumplestiltskin's name out loud. “But as soon as we can, we'll start practicing for the little lad's siblings.”

“You might not even want me then.”

Killian looked at her sternly. “Emma, sweetheart, if that blasted midwife hadn't banned it, I would have had you just now. Don't ever doubt my desire for you, love.”

Emma flushed. “Just don't forget your promise, okay? Even if I'm tired and cranky. Or mad at you for some reason.”

Killian brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I won't forget.”

* * *

“You shouldn't be out of bed, love.”

“I told you. I'm fine. I'm just visiting my mother for crying out loud!”

Killian caught up with her, bemoaning her stubbornness. Luckily, everyone in the courtyard gave them a wide berth, not wanting to get in the way of the pregnant princess. “Couldn't the Queen just visit with you in our room?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I'm not helpless, you know.” She spun on her heel, then stopped abruptly. “Oh.” Her hand flew to her stomach. _“Oh.”_ Her face contorted in pain for a few brief seconds

“Emma...”

She looked up at him with wide eyes. “I think... _oh_ , I think the baby's coming,” she managed, fear lacing her words.

“Now?!” Killian half shouted. He was at her side in an instant, arm going around her waist. “Okay, let's get you back.” He shouted at one of the passing servants to fetch the King and Queen and the midwife. He gave orders as they walked, Emma needing to pause whenever one of the contractions gripped her.

“Gods, it already hurts,” Emma gasped, holding her stomach.

Killian gritted his teeth, knowing the pain was only going to get worse. He wished there was more he could do for her. Halfway to their suite Emma's water broke, leaving no doubt that Liam had chosen this day to come into the world. It took longer than he liked, but they finally managed to get back to their suite. Killian helped Emma into the bed, wincing in sympathy as she inhaled sharply through another contraction. He was about to strip her wet clothes when Snow and the midwife hurried in.

“We're here!” Snow said anxiously. “How is she?”

Killian was about to open his mouth to reply, when Rosalind the midwife cut across him. “How far apart are the pains, milady?”

“I'm not sure...maybe five minutes?”

“Then we've got a long day ahead of us,” Rosalind said matter of factly. “If you'll excuse us, Captain, I'll take a look and make sure everything is well.”

“If you think for one sodding minute that I'm _leaving_ her...”

“It'll only be for a few minutes,” Snow interjected, her hand on his arm. “Let the midwife do her job, Killian.”

Killian looked at Emma, who nodded. “I'll be okay,” she reassured him. “I'll see you soon.”

He still didn't like it, but he also didn't want to upset Emma unnecessarily. “I'll be right outside,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. Snow led him out into the sitting room where David sat in front of the fire. Killian shrugged off his coat and sat next to his father in law, scrubbing his hand over his face. Now that it was here, Killian wasn't sure _what_ he was feeling.

“It's okay to be nervous,” David said quietly.

“I think bloody terrified is a better description, your highness.”

David snorted. “I did _not_ expect to be going through this again, not this soon. But Emma's strong. She'll be fine.”

“I never expected to be going through this at all.”

“It'll be better when they let you back in. Did the same thing to me when Emma was born.”

“But for now, we wait.”

“We wait.”

It felt like an eternity but at length the women allowed Killian back into the room. To his surprise, Emma was sitting in one of the large leather chairs, wearing one of her thin nightdresses. The bed was stripped bare in preparation for what was to come, he presumed. Killian knelt down next to her, brushing some of her hair back from her face tenderly. “How are you feeling, love?”

“I'm okay for now. Rosalind says it's still early.”

“How long?”

“It'll be a few hours before things get interesting, Captain,” Rosalind said from across the room. She was gathering linens, making a small pile next to their bed.

“A few _hours?”_

“ _Yes_ , and the princess should be resting. Sleeping preferably. She's going to need it.”

“I _am_ resting, see?” Emma said, gesturing to her comfortable chair. “I'm not sure I could sleep now, even if I wanted to.”

“I'll be back soon,” Rosalind said, looking unconvinced. “Fetch me though if anything changes.”

Killian could not say he was sorry to see her go. “Bossy, isn't she?”

“She's good at this, Killian. Give her a break.”

He sighed. “I know. I just can't help but worry. It's all new for me, love.”

Emma took his hand and squeezed it gently. “Me too. But we'll do this the way we do everything else, okay?”

“Have I told you that I love you today?”

“Not until just now.”

“Well, I love you. And I love _you_ , little one. Try to go easy on your mum now.” He kissed her stomach, then leaned up and kissed Emma, his lips lingering on hers. “Would you like me to read to you, lass?”

“Okay.”

They spent the afternoon like that; Killian reading from Emma's favorite book, waiting for _something_ to happen. Her parents visited, the four of them laughing and joking, Emma gripping Killian's hand tightly whenever a contraction gripped her. It seemed more like a normal day than a royal birth, but Rosalind warned them that the first birth was always the longest.

As the contractions grew more frequent, Rosalind knelt down to examine Emma. “I think it's time to move you back to the bed, princess. Your son is getting anxious it seems.”

“Is he okay?” Emma asked, worried.

“He's fine. But it won't be long now.”

Killian and Rosalind helped Emma into the bed, Killian sitting to her left so she could hold his hand. It was a bit sore already, but it was a small price to pay to be here for the birth of his son. Emma cried out, her face a mask of pain as another powerful contraction hit.

“Gods, it hurts,” she whimpered, biting her lip.

“I know, love,” Killian whispered, kissing her sweaty brow. “Just hold onto me. I'm right here.” It was literally all he could do and it was driving him mad. All they could do was wait.

“Can I push now? It feels like I should,” Emma asked, voice laced with pain.

“Not yet. But soon.” Rosalind draped a blanket over Emma's spread legs, looking calm, seemingly immune to the pain her charge was in. Killian growled under his breath, letting go of Emma long enough to get her a glass of water. She sipped at it greedily, her head falling back to the pillow when she was finished.

“Please don't ask how I'm feeling,” Emma said, not even looking at him.

Killian tried not to take her attitude personally; she was already exhausted. “Is this the part where you start cursing me for doing this to you?”

Emma laughed weakly. “I don't know. Maybe.”

“Well, might as well get it out.” He took hold of her hand again. “Tell me what an unfeeling, unsympathetic bastard I am, Emma.”

Emma hissed in pain, her fingers contracting around his hand, pain lancing up his arm. “Ow,” she gasped, head lolling on the pillow. “You're not, you know.”

“Not what, sweetheart?”

“An unfeeling, unsympathetic bastard.”

“Not many would agree with you.”

“They're not the ones having this baby... _shit_.” She tried to breathe through the pain, but he could tell by her grip on his hand it was getting worse.

Rosalind peeked out from behind the blanket; Killian had forgotten she was even there. “Alright, princess. It's time to push. On the next contraction, I want you to push as hard as you can, okay?”

“Okay,” Emma replied breathlessly. Killian nodded encouragingly. Moments later, Emma cried out, heaving herself forward, her hand gripping his like a vice.

“Again,” the midwife ordered. Emma's screams filled the room as she bore down; Killian thought for a moment she was going to break his hand. She fell back against the pillows, sweaty and tired, her face still contorted in pain.

“I can't do it,” she whined. “It hurts too much.”

“You can, princess,” Rosalind said. “Because this little prince is coming whether you want him to or not.”

“I've got you, Emma,” Killian said. “Just one more, yeah? One more and you can rest.” It was only a tiny fib.

“Okay.” On the next contraction, Emma pushed with all her might, screaming like the Furies.

“I can see the head!” Rosalind cried. “One more, princess!” Emma took a deep breath and pushed again, the agony evident on her face. Killian held his breath, eyes darting from Emma face to where the midwife knelt. It felt like an eternity before Emma fell back against the pillows again, completely spent.

“Well?” Killian demanded. _Gods, please let them both be alright._

Then a tiny cry fill the air and Killian allowed himself to breathe again. “I believe, Captain, that you are now the father of a healthy baby boy,” Rosalind said, holding up the tiny struggling baby.

He had to blink back the tears, completely overwhelmed by the emotions that flooded him. “Emma, love, look,” he whispered, leaning over Emma's tired form. “It's our son.”

She blinked her eyes open, a tired smile on her lips. “May I hold him?”

“Of course, highness.” Rosalind brought the tiny bundle over to them, placing little Liam gently into his mother's arms. He had a shock of dark hair like Killian's along with ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes and he was perfect in every way.

“Hello there, little one,” Killian said softly, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “We've waited a long time for you.”

Emma was crying silent tears as she looked from her husband to her son, pressing a kiss to Liam's downy head. “He looks just like you,” she said, sounded exhausted but happy.

“Aye, but I do believe he's stubborn like you, my love.” Killian reached out his hand, starting when Liam got a hold of his finger in one tiny fist. He was so small, Killian was almost afraid to touch him. “Definitely more like you, princess.”

Emma laughed. “Well, we'll see about that.”

Rosalind took the baby back for a few moments, cutting the cord and washing him off. Once mother and son were a bit more presentable, Snow and David reentered the room. Snow's face lit up when she saw the family gathered on the bed, parents cooing over the bundle in Emma's arms.

“How is he?”

Killian looked up. “Come see for yourself.” He watched over his family proudly as his in laws greeted their grandson.

* * *

Hours later when Emma and Liam were fast asleep, Killian slipped out of their room. He didn't have to go far, as David was outside their door looking grim.

“Anything?”

“No. I have the sentries reporting every half hour and Blue reinforced the wards when Emma went into labor.”

“Do you think that will stop him?”

David frowned. “Honestly? I don't know.”

“The imp's been too quiet, Dave,” Killian grumbled as he started to pace. “I don't like it.”

“I don't either, but what would you have us do? He's apparently vanished. And Emma's in no condition to confront him, even if we found him.”

“She's vulnerable now. You heard what the sodding Blue Fairy said.” Emma's magic was safe as long as she was pregnant. Liam was here now. Their joyous occasion marred now by fear and uncertainty.

“But Emma knows about her magic. She didn't before. He won't catch us unawares, Killian. I swear it. We _will_ keep them safe.”

“I don't want my family to stay cooped up in this castle forever. No offense, mate.”

“None taken. Believe me when I say I know exactly how you feel.” The king clapped Killian on the shoulder. “You should go rest. Be with your family. Emma needs you.”

Reluctantly, Killian agreed. He went back inside, slipping his boots off just inside the door. He stripped down to his shirt and climbed into the bed next to Emma, kissing her brow. Liam's tiny crib sat next to them; Killian could just make out his tiny form, chest rising and falling steadily as he slept. He loved them both so much, it made his chest ache. He would die before he saw any harm come to either of them.

Killian didn't sleep, he merely watched his wife and son in the darkness. He could see them older in his mind's eye; Emma laughing at her oldest boy, playing with his younger siblings. A brother and a sister perhaps? Killian would love to have a daughter to dote on like he did with Emma. With Killian himself at the helm of the _Jolly Roger_ , taking his family out for a pleasure cruise. Yes, that was the life he wanted. Home and family and True Love.

_We'll have that future, Emma_ , Killian swore silently.  _Whatever it takes. We'll have it._


	23. Celebrating the Pirate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma wants to celebrate Killian's birthday, future fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for my December AU project. I am still intending on doing the sequel to this story, but I wanted to share this with you. Enjoy!

Emma flicked her wrist, lighting the hearth. Their bedroom was lit softly with candles, the sidebar filled with food. She wasn't sure how much eating they would do, but she wanted to be prepared. She wanted Killian's birthday to be memorable.

She looked in the mirror opposite their bed, rechecking her appearance. It had been more than six months since she'd given birth to her little Liam; through hard work she'd shed almost all the weight she'd gained during her pregnancy. Killian said she was imagining it, but Emma swore there was a stubborn slight roundness to her stomach that she couldn't get rid of. She'd never really considered herself to be a vain person, but that was before she was married to the sexiest man in all the realms. She wanted him to want her as much as she wanted him.

Her wrap was sheer black, edged with fur. It covered a patterned black corset with thigh high stockings and garters. Her legs were set off by the heels on her feet, making them look long and lean. It was the most she'd felt like the adventurous princess who'd run away with a pirate since Liam was born.

Emma rechecked her makeup and hair, finally deciding there wasn't anything else she could do. Liam was with his grandparents, his nurse not far away. Emma had done all she could to ensure they could have the evening alone, including setting aside milk to feed her son. Her breasts still ached a bit but she needed to spend some alone time with her husband.

There was a light rap on the door; Emma smiled. “Come in!”

The door swung open; Killian was on the other side of it. He stepped confidently inside, dressed as she requested in his signature pirate captain ensemble. “Hello, love.” He stopped and really looked, jaw dropping slightly. “Bloody hell, you are a vision.”

She flushed, curtsying. “Happy birthday.”

He stepped into her space, hand and hook resting on her hips. “Are you my present?”

She nodded. “I am completely yours for the night.”

“Truly?”

She laid her hands on his chest, fingers curling into his necklace. “Tonight we are simply the pirate and his princess. I am yours to do with as you will, Captain.”

His blue eyes darkened, fingers tightening on her hip. “Anything I wish?”

“Anything. My body is entirely yours.”

His eyes flickered over the rest of the room. “You did all this?”

“I did.”

“My lovely princess.” He ghosted his lips over hers, barely a kiss. The he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder; Emma yelped. He lightly smacked her ass and carried her to the feast she'd laid out. Instead of setting her down, he put her in his lap, essentially straddling his thigh. The leather of his pants rubbed the delicate skin of her inner thighs, making her sigh. Already, her body was responding to him; the assertive pirate captain never failed to turn her on. He chuckled low in her ear, his hook parting the sheer fabric of her wrap to further expose her to his hungry gaze. She shivered as the cool metal skimmed over her skin.

“What tasty treats have you gotten for me, princess?” He leaned in and nibbled on the long column of her throat. “Aside from this delectable body.”

Emma moaned, eyes fluttering shut. Desire coursed through her; his teasing demeanor was going to devastate her before the night was done, but she relished it. She'd known he was hers and she was his from the night she'd smuggled him into her room and begged him to bed her.

Killian chuckled, plucking a piece of fruit from the sideboard. He skimmed the strawberry over the straining swells of her breasts, squeezing some of the juice onto her skin. “Are you fond of this corset?” he growled in her ear.

“Maybe?”

“You're not sure? Tsk, tsk, princess. Perhaps I should tear it to shreds if you're so indifferent.” He caught his hook in the space between her breasts, lightly pulling.

Emma mewled, her back arching. “Killian...”

He smacked her covered cunt, which made her cry out. “The princess forgets her place.”

“Captain!” she cried. “Captain!”

“That's better.” He turned her so he could lick the strawberry juice off her skin. “Hmm.”

Emma had one hand braced on the sideboard another on Killian's thigh, trying to maintain her balance. Killian buried his face in her cleavage, licking and biting at her skin. His fingers slipped between her legs, where she was trying to grind herself against his leather clad thigh. He stroked the satin, groaning at how damp and hot she was. He roughly pushed his fingers under the fabric, shoving it aside. Emma made a strangled noise that went straight to his hardening cock. “So fucking wet for me, princess,” he breathed. “Let's see how you taste.” He found another strawberry, spearing it on his hook. He held her panties aside, letting her slide a little down his leg. He drew the succulent fruit through her sopping flesh and brought it to his lips. Emma watched as he bit down, moaning at the intoxicating taste of her mixed with the fruit. “Delicious.”

Emma gnawed on her lip, wondering what else he would do to her. She had meant it when she gave him free reign with her body; she trusted him to make it pleasurable for both of them. After polishing off the strawberry, Killian got another, working it partially inside her hole. Emma's breathing hitched, as his fingers danced over throbbing clit. “I'm going to make you come,” he informed her. “See how well you obey.”

“Oh fuck.”

“All in due time. You'll be thoroughly ravished, princess, I promise you.”

Emma nodded, following as Killian urged her to hang on to him. Her hand curled around the back of his neck, the solid weight of him anchoring her. He circled and rubbed, whispered filthy things as she writhed in his lap. The pressure built low in her belly, her walls beginning to flutter. “Such a wanton thing,” he murmured, pinching her clit. “My wanton dirty princess.”

“Yes, Captain, yes!” she cried, shaking with the need to come. “Yours!”

“Then come for your captain, princess. Now.” Emma screamed as she fell, body bucking in his hold. Strawberry juice coated Killian's thigh and he groaned. His cock was rock hard, he wanted nothing more than to be buried in that wet sheath. But he had plans for his gift.

He plucked the strawberry from between her thighs and popped it into his mouth. He groaned lowly; it tasted even better than the first. Emma sagged against him, panting, but he couldn't have that. “Get on your knees, lass. And remove that wrap so I can see you.”

Emma sucked in a breath, her body still tingling from her orgasm. But she did as he bid, his rough captain's voice doing wicked things to her. She was thrilled their intense desire for one another hadn't been lost after they became parents. She shrugged the thin wrap off and shucked it, the heels of her shoes cradled against her ass where she knelt. She waited obediently for her next order.

Killian cupped her chin, his thumb tracing her soft lips. “I want these pretty lips wrapped around my cock, princess.” He pressed his thumb on the seam and she opened, sucking eagerly on the digit, licking and swirling the way she would his cock. She still remembered the first time he'd begged her to do that, in their cabin on the _Jolly Roger._

He groaned, cock twitching. He roughly unlaced his pants and splayed his thighs, pulling her closer by the hair. They hadn't played like this in a while and he'd missed it. Emma inched forward, bringing her hands to his thighs as she licked him from root to tip with the flat of her tongue. He let out a long sigh, relieved to be getting some attention. She worked him thoroughly, lips and tongue dancing along his shaft and he let her, mesmerized by this sight of his beautiful Emma on her knees for him.

When she took him in, he moaned, hips bucking a little, instantly needing more of her wet mouth. Emma relished all the sounds he made, her own arousal building again as she sucked him. She took him deeper on every drive until he brushed the back of her throat. Killian gasped and pulled sharply on her hair, just the right side of pain. “Fuck, just like that, princess. Take me down that pretty throat.”

Emma hummed around him, relaxing her throat to take him deeper. Her nose brushed the wiry hair at the base of his cock but she kept going, licking him, swallowing around him. Killian came with a sharp cry, taking them both by surprise, shooting his seed down her throat. She swallowed everything he had to give, licking him clean before releasing him.

“Fucking hell,” Killian panted, sagging to his chair. “You'll...pay for that”

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked innocently.

“Wasn't supposed...to come,” he said, trying to sound stern. It was difficult when she'd made him breathless. But she'd been doing that since they met. “Very naughty, princess.”

She just grinned, proud that she could make Captain Hook into a needy mess. And she was certain she would enjoy whatever punishment he chose.

“Up on the bed,” he said, standing up. He started to strip off his clothes, heavy coat, vest and linen shirt all finding the floor. Emma wet her lips as she drank him in, messy dark hair, strong frame, glinting hook. She lay in the middle of their bed, propped up on her elbows, waiting for him. He paused only long enough to shuck his boots before joining her, covering her with his body and kissing her deeply. Emma mewled into the kiss; he'd denied her too long. She skimmed her hands over his bare back, feeling the muscles play under her fingertips. Killian couldn't stop kissing her; his princess was a beauty, a firebrand, his everything. He rolled them over so she was on top, straddling his hips. He brought his hook up to the top of her corset, randomly loosing the laces so he could get it off.

Emma broke their kiss long enough to unhook the corset and toss it aside; she keened as his lips wrapped around one of her nipples. She braced herself above him, rocking a little as he feasted on her skin. She was extra sensitive and despite their roles, Killian was careful, knowing if he sucked too hard he would hurt her. A little milk escaped but he didn't care; it was a symbol of how much this woman had given him, their son hopefully sleeping on the other side of the castle.

“Captain... _gods_ ,” Emma breathed, a fire between her legs. Her satin underwear were soaked through, still slightly askew. He growled against her skin and rolled them again, sliding down between her legs.

“Look in the mirror, princess,” he said, hand and hook sliding over the tops of her thighs. He fingered her garter as she looked; she was flushed, lips kiss bitten, pupils black. Her hair was a wreck. She looked debauched, sinful, thoroughly in the thrall this man. Killian locked eyes with her in the mirror as he untied her garters and moved to divest her of the last remaining barrier to her cunt. “We'll leave these on.” He kissed the skin at the top of her stockings, rubbing his scruff over her pale skin.

Emma writhed, another wave of lust pooling in her gut. Killian peppered her skin with kisses as he spread her legs. She gasped, feeling his tongue on her, still watching in the mirror. She knew he liked when she watched. Killian lapped at her swollen flesh, , licking away the remnants of the strawberries. Emma fisted the sheet, desperate to hang onto something as he brought her to climax...once...twice...three times. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think; all she could do was feel the rush of pleasure every time she climaxed.

He brought her down after the third high; she was quivering in his arms, loose and pliant. Utterly relaxed. She moaned softly; Killian left a parting kiss to her clit. He whispered praise, kissing up her body, his painfully erect cock brushing her stomach. “You are exquisite when you come, princess,” he said quietly. “Your Captain is pleased.”

She hummed incoherently; the words registering but she was too tired to speak. She did smile weakly and he chuckled. “Roll over, lass. We'll take this slow.” She did, curious about what he had in mind. Killian pushed her hair aside and started kissing down her back. She sighed and relaxed; his lips were warm and soft. Even in her sated state he made her skin tingle. He paid special attention to the dimples at the base of her spine, his hand kneading her ass. She shivered, secretly hoping. He'd only taken her there twice so far, but Emma really enjoyed it. How could she not when it was Killian?

Killian smiled against her skin; she smelled of sunflowers and sex. His hips rutted a little against the mattress, taking the edge off his need. He'd have to work for it but he knew it was worth it. He snatched up a pillow and tucked it under her, lifting her pelvis. Emma bit her lip as he kissed each ass cheek, his teeth scraping her skin. “Do you know what I'm going to do to you, princess?”

She looked over into the mirror, finding his eyes. “Yes.”

“Do you know why?”

“Because I'm yours.”

He grinned. “There's a girl. Knows her proper place.” He smacked one cheek then the other; they colored briefly as Emma groaned. She did love to be spanked, his princess. Instead, he spread her cheeks with his hand and hook, licking her puckered hole. She jerked and mewled, suddenly no longer quite so boneless. Her body remembered this and craved it. Arousal pooled in her belly; Killian gathered some of her slickness on his finger and started to massage the tight ring of flesh. Emma inhaled sharply, but relaxed again quickly. She trusted him implicitly.

Killian looked around; there was a bottle of oil on the nightstand. He picked it up and poured a little on the crease of her ass, then more on his finger. Slowly, he pressed, increasing the pressure until his finger slid inside. Emma moaned, fingers once more tangled in the sheets. She could feel his finger sliding in and out slowly, working her open. Eventually, he added second and a third; he needed to stretch her as much as possible in order for her to accept his girth. He looked into the mirror himself, soaking in the erotic sight.

“So tight, princess,” he whispered. “Gonna feel so good around me.”

She moaned again, squirming. It didn't hurt; she just needed him to get on with it before she melted from want.

“Impatient again, lass,” he chided.

“Please, Captain,” she pleaded, pushing herself up. She was on her hands and knees, practically fucking his fingers as she rocked back. “Please.”

“Bloody fuck.” He eased his fingers out, ignoring her need so he could get his pants off. He kicked them away impatiently before moving to kneel behind her. He spanked her again, harder, relishing her cry of pleasure. His Emma had blossomed into a wanton siren in their time together; he loved her all the more for it. He found the oil once more, pouring a liberal amount on his cock. He stroked himself a few times, sucking in a deep breath. It would take all his willpower not to come the moment he was inside her. But he wanted to make it good for her.

Emma waited with bated breath, eyes locked with his in the mirror. He held her steady with his hook, then pressed the tip of his cock to her slightly distended hole. He went slow, leaning forward inch by excruciating inch. Her back arched as he stretched her, sinking deeper and deeper. She whimpered, muttering under her breath, nearly drowning in pleasure.

“Fuck, Emma,” Killian hissed, in almost to the hilt. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” she breathed. “Fuck.” It was different from when he usually fucked her, but it felt amazing.

“So fucking tight, lass. Gods.” He pulled back a little then thrust back in, teasing them both. He watched them in the mirror, as he rocked into her over and over, her face a mask of pleasure. He could feel his climax building at the base of his spine, thoroughly undone by her. “Touch yourself,” he ordered. “Want to feel it when you come.”

Emma lowered herself to one elbow and reached back, her fingers brushing her clit. It felt  _good_ , better than she expected, a zing of want shooting up her spine. Killian felt it too, groaning as he increased his pace. He held her by the hips, trying to stave off his orgasm until she was there with him. She felt incredible.

Emma thumbed her clit a few times, more moans tumbling from her lips. Killian adjusted his hips and she cried out; he'd hit a spot she hadn't known existed. She pushed two fingers into her dripping cunt, making them both groan. Killian's control shattered and he took her with hard deep thrusts, almost wild in his need. Emma screamed, her walls fluttering as the world exploded behind her eyes. She dragged Killian with her; he roared his climax, pulsing wetly inside her.

They collapsed together on the bed. Emma was spent; her last climax exhausting her. Exhausting her in the best way; they hadn't been able to have a night like this in quite a while. She whimpered a little when Killian slipped out of her; he kissed her cheek lovingly. He found a cloth, dipping it in the wash basin. He tenderly cleaned her up; the poor lass was already sleepy. He smiled down at her, brushing a tendril of her golden hair away.

“I love you,” he said quietly, bending down to kiss her cheek.

Emma stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “Love you.”

“You're sapped, love. You should rest.”

“Can't...birthday.”

“You've given me a wonderful birthday, Emma.”

She smiled. “Still...present. Just a few more minutes?”

He was helpless against those glittering green eyes. “Very well.” He stoked the fire in the hearth, then went to bring one of their trays of fruit. If Emma insisted on staying awake, then they could eat. When he returned to the bed, she was propped up against the headboard, leaning back against a stack of pillows. Her long hair rested over her breasts; she looked like a some sort of sea goddess. His heart ached painfully. He didn't know what he'd done to earn her love but he prayed he could be worthy of it.

“Hey there, sailor.”

Killian stripped off the top layer of bedding; it would need to be cleaned. Then he slipped under the remaining cool sheets. “How do you feel?”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Wonderful.”

He leaned his cheek on the crown of her head. “Me too.”

She found his hand under the blanket. “Happy birthday, Killian.”

“It's been quite a while since my birthday's been happy.” His last had been during the few days Emma had been missing, gone to confront the Imp. He hadn't celebrated his birth since his brother's death, so it had passed without him even knowing.

Emma frowned; she knew his past was painful. She was so tired, but she needed to do this for him. She reached over and found the wrapped box. “Here's to many more happy ones then.”

Killian accepted the box; she hadn't needed to give him a gift. He had her, he had their sweet boy, he had his ship. That was all he needed. Still, he unwrapped it, peeling back the paper. “Emma...did you make this?”

She nodded. “I asked Maria for help; sewing's not my strong suit. I hope it fits. We used your measurements from the wedding.”

He grinned. “There's only one way to find out.” He leaped out of bed—he was still naked—and pulled the vest on. It was a deep blue, the same color as his old Navy uniform, but intricately embroidered. It must have taken her a long time. He did the buttons one handed; she'd made them the perfect size for it. “How do I look?”

She smiled. “We do have a mirror, you know.”

He laughed and moved to stand in front of it. Emma came up behind him, gazing into the mirror. “Very handsome.”

Killian swallowed, reaching up to cover her hand with his. “It's wonderful. Thank you, my love.”

“I couldn't think of what to get you. I wanted it to be special.” She cherished the necklace he'd given her for her birthday so many months ago.

“It's very special, Emma.” He turned and cupped her cheeks, giving her a slow thank you kiss. “As are you.”

She blushed. “Come back to bed, Captain.”

“As Her Highness wishes.” He smirked as she swatted at him. He carefully removed his new vest, placing it in his wardrobe. Then he returned to their bed, where they took turns feeding each other fruit and talking about their son until Emma fell asleep in his arms. A very happy birthday indeed.

 


End file.
